


Life Starts Now

by ThePenguinOfDeath



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - School, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 45,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePenguinOfDeath/pseuds/ThePenguinOfDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a British Art Academy scholarship student living alone in the countryside. Dean is studying mechanics at a random college to stay close to his brother Sam. Neither of them have much room for friends or any kind of life, but when they meet everything changes for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify ages: Dean is 18, Sam is 16. Jess is 19, she was a child genius and has already studied teaching art.

Castiel sighed as he lifted his paint brush and dipped it into the cleaning fluid, swirling it a few times to get rid of any remaining residue. He frowned slightly, his eyes glancing over the landscape he was painting, before gazing down at the photograph he was basing his picture on. He paused for a moment, before smiling and setting the brush down, picking up a finer one and selecting the appropriate paint colour. With a gentle touch, he started to apply small strokes of paint, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip in concentration. He had to get this right.

Castiel loved art. He loved the way that you could start with a simple, blank canvas and turn it into a swirling mass of shape and colour, a perfect depiction of whatever place or emotion you wanted. He liked picking up a block of clay and creating a perfect miniature person, or digitally manipulating photographs until they showed some kind of dystopian wonderland. His teachers had always asked Castiel to try and focus on one thing, one aspect of art, yet he couldn’t – he lived and breathed the wonderful variety that various art forms could bring.

Satisfied with his work, Castiel quickly cleaned the brush and sat back to look over the painting. The image was fairly ordinary – a cloudy sky rolling over the green hills of the English countryside – but every detail was catalogued with the greatest precision, from the few cows grazing in the paddock at the bottom to the unevenly trimmed hedgerow just below the clouds. It was a view Castiel had had the other day while walking in front of the Drama Academy, and he had instantly known he had to paint it. Most people would just have brushed it off as another dull day, but he had always seen the beauty in these things – and it was a nice contrast to the wire dragonfly sculpture he had made as his last project.

Noticing that everyone else was packing away, Castiel stood up and stretched out his stiff limbs, before starting to gather together his things. It was amazing how time could fly when he got really into his work – he sometimes didn’t notice if several hours had passed, and on one memorable occasion he had been so engrossed that he hadn’t realised art lessons were over for the day until three hours after class ended, when the teacher had come back in to check the clay ovens. She had seemed shocked that no-one else had bothered to tell him to leave – but then, Castiel had always been quite contented to meld into the background here. He had worked hard enough to get the scholarship, so now that he was here he had much more important things to do than make friends.

“Eh hem,” The teacher at the front, Miss Moore, cleared her throat and smiled, and Castiel stopped, realising everyone else had stopped packing away to listen.

“For the past few weeks I’ve allowed you to work on your own individual projects during my lessons, but as of tomorrow I have decided that we are going to start a class project on portraits, as none of you seem to favour portraits when given the choice. I have selected a few volunteers from our partner academies and the local college, and next lesson they will be coming in to pose for you. You will have to bring a camera as they are only able to pose for one lesson as they are obviously busy with their own work, so you will need to work from photographs and memory. How does that sound?”

Castiel felt a small smile flick across his face. It would be nice to try portraits again – he hadn’t attempted one in a while due to his inability to find a subject, so this would be a nice chance for him to try some new techniques. Of course, now he had to decide what medium to do his portrait in – watercolour, charcoal, pencil, or anything else – and what sort of poses he wanted. This certainly gave him something to think about tonight while the others were out socialising.

Continuing to go over his options, Castiel resumed his packing away and placed all his paints and brushed back in his shoulder bag, before pulling his trenchcoat off the back of his chair and putting it on. Very carefully, he lifted the easel with the painting he had just completed on over to the side of the room, walking slowly to ensure none of the paint was smudged. Once it was in the right place, he turned back and picked up his schoolbag, nodding to Miss Moore who was waiting in the doorway for him to leave. Like always, he was the last person there. Putting his hands in his pockets, he walked over to the door.

“That was a lovely painting, Castiel. I loved the brushwork you used on the tree in the bottom left corner. Are you looking forward to moving on to portraits?” Mrs Moore always seemed to make an effort to talk to Castiel – she had probably noticed that he didn’t really socialise with anyone else.

“Thank-you, Miss Moore. I do enjoy working on portraits, however I tend to struggle to find an appropriate subject –there are not very many people who are willing to pose for me. This should be a highly enjoyable exercise, and it will allow me to see what I need to improve on in that genre.” Castiel’s reply was polite, as always, but emotionless.

“Please, call me Jess – Miss Moore makes me feel old. Can you not do any portraits of your friends or family? I’m sure you must have some pictures of them somewhere that you could use.” She smiled encouragingly at Castiel, and he almost sighed at her patronising attitude – he didn’t need to be treated differently just because he chose not to socialise or have friends.

“I don’t have friends,” He stated simply, “And my family does not wish to associate with me any more. They disliked my decision to pursue a career in art – they do not believe it is a proper subject. The only family member I am still in contact with is my brother Gabriel, and I do not have any pictures of him. They are unnecessary.”

Miss Moore’s eyebrows shot up in concern. “That’s dreadful!”

Castiel shrugged, saying nothing. It had hurt a lot when his family announced that he would no longer be welcome if he decided to accept his Art Academy scholarship, but they had never been a particularly close family, and the only family member he really cared about had already left home. He did his best not to think about the rest of his family, and while he did miss them, he was glad that he had made the decision to ignore their threats and accept the scholarship.

“I can’t believe that you have no friends. I’m sure that if you talked to the other people in the class you would quickly make friends, they’re a very lovely group.” Miss Moore seemed overly concerned with Castiel’s accepting attitude to his solitary existence.

“I’m sure they’re all perfectly nice, however I see no need to talk to them. I have come here to work and learn, not to make friends.” Castiel summarised his attitude as if it was perfectly normal, dismissing the suggestion.

By this time, the two had reached the doors leading out of the building, and Castiel turned and gave a slight smile to his teacher.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and prepare for tomorrow’s project.”

Miss Moore gave a warm and gentle smile, placing one hand on Castiel’s shoulder. He frowned down at it.

“Of course. I’ll see you in lesson’s tomorrow, Castiel.” She gave his shoulder a slight comforting squeeze before walking away.

Castiel blinked slightly in confusion at her actions, before heading out of the doors towards his rooms. Sometimes people could act very strangely, and he didn’t understand how no-one could accept how he felt no need to spend time around others. In his eyes, it shouldn’t be that difficult to comprehend.


	2. The Small Print

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV

Dean squinted at the underside of the car, carefully manoeuvring his hands around to get a better grip on the spanner before twisting it against the bolt again. He grunted as it moved ever so slightly, taunting him by refusing to loosen all the way. Gritting his teeth in concentration, he flexed his fingers before pulling again, his muscles protesting with an aching pain at the effort. The bolt gave a small squeak as it twisted around, and Dean grimaced as it came away, dropping to the floor with a metallic ringing noise. Relaxing, he reached out blindly to pick it up off the floor before pushing off with his legs to send the automotive creeper he was lying on skidding out from under the car.

“Y’alright, Dean? You spent so long under there I wondered if you were ever gonna come out!” A muscular boy covered in oil and grease yelled across the garage.

Dean mock-glared at the boy, flipping him the finger as he sat up and dropped the bolt into a toolbox. 

“Shut it, Benny! This baby’s a beauty, but old cars that ain’t looked after properly get kinda hard to deal with.”

Benny laughed, picking up a greasy cloth from where it was draped on a car bonnet and wiping his hands. 

“Well, if you’ve finished proving what a puny weakling you are, you wanna go down the pub? We can grab a pint, maybe pick up a couple of chicks, whatever.”

Dean sighed, pulling his overalls back over his white top where they had been undone around the waist.

“Sorry mate, I can’t tonight, I gotta finish up here then go and meet Sammy – he’s managed to get me roped in to do some modelling thing for his girlfriend. Smarmy git.”

Benny shrugged, picking up his kit and stepping away. “Sucks to be you. Is your brother still dating that older chick?”

Dean’s expression shifted into one of discomfort, and he leant back against the car he had just been working on, resting his spanner against his knee. “Yeah. I mean, it’s only three years – sixteen to nineteen – but still, he’s a student and she’s some genius who qualified early and is already an art teacher at like, the most posh place ever. I don’t know, man, he’s happy, but it all looks messed up to me.”

“You’re just jealous ‘cause your brother can score a better girl than you.”

“Oh, sod off!”

Benny laughed again, before turning to walk away. 

“I’ll see you Friday then, mate.”

Dean nodded after his friend, before standing up properly and turning back to the car he had been working on. He still needed to double-check the undercarriage and fit e new bolt, then he could finally go home and shower before he had to meet Sammy. He loved working in the garage – in fact, he loved absolutely everything about his mechanics course – but it seriously made you filthy. Sometimes he couldn’t even see the colour of his skin beneath the layers of grime and oil.

Half an hour later, Dean was striding down the road still in his mucky overalls, making the five-minute walk from the college garage to his apartment. He smiled as he walked, half-closing his eyes as he started to hum Metallica under his breath. The slight breeze felt heavenly against his sweaty skin, and he found himself feeling strangely peaceful considering he was walking down one of the only busy streets in this area of England. Dean continued to walk happily down the road, oblivious to the fact that he had nearly walked in to several other students walking in the other direction, who were now directing glares at his retreating back. Stuffing his hands into his overall pockets, he instinctively turned left down a side road, only opening his eyes fully when he almost tripped over a bump in the path.

The road smelt quite strongly of beer, despite the fact that most of the people in this area were rich or brilliant Academy students who Dean doubted would touch alcohol if their lives depended on it, and there was graffiti scrawled on the walls in vibrant yellow paint. This was the shadier part of town – the part where most of the ordinary college kids like him lived, seeing as they weren’t posh geniuses like everyone else around here. Sometimes it got to him how they were almost segregated from everyone else, not by a physical barrier but simply by where they could afford to go and where they were expected to be. As he passed an overflowing rubbish bin, he couldn’t help but feel slightly irritated at the inequality in this part of the country.

Still, at least Sammy would never suffer from that – he had his scholarship at the local boarding school, which was the only reason why Dean had ever moved to this strange neighbourhood. Sammy might be sixteen now, but he was still Dean’s little brother so he was obligated to look after him. 

Finally, Dean turned into the tiny, rundown apartment complex tucked away behind all the alleyways of the little town. Frowning for a moment as he felt around in his pockets, he eventually found his keys and pulled them out, slotting them into the battered door of Red Block. He couldn’t help but see the irony in the name that was almost reminiscent of a block in a prison complex. Trudging slowly up the stairs, he came to the door of number 6 and pushed a different key in, sighing as it stuck in the lock. Rolling his eyes, he pushed harder until the key reluctantly turned and the door swung open. It looked like he was going to have to fix the lock again.

Chucking his keys aside as he walked in, Dean shoved the door closed before starting to strip off, throwing his dirty clothes into the overflowing washing basket as he moved past into the bathroom. Turning the shower on, he pulled off his last item of clothing – strangely, his heavy boots – before stepping under the water and sighing happily. This was much better.

Dean relaxed as he stood in the shower, the water washing away all the grime and soothing his aching, knotted muscles. His head fell forward and he gently started to run his hands through his hear, before reaching for the bottle of shampoo on the ledge. Turning the water off for a moment, he rubbed the shampoo into his scalp before putting the water back on and starting to wash it out, relishing in the feeling of the bubbles sliding over his skin. It didn’t take long before he was entirely clean, and reluctantly he switched the shower off, not wanting to risk running up too big a water bill. He had made that mistake often enough when he had first moved here.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, Dean wandered back out into the sitting room slash kitchen, before pushing open the door to his tiny bedroom. Wiping away the water that was running into his eyes, he quickly dried himself off before selecting a smart enough red shirt and a pair of decent jeans, pulling on a pair of boxers beforehand. Satisfied that he looked presentable, he brushed his short hair back, thankful that it wasn’t long like Sammy’s, then walked back out to tidy the place up a little before his brother arrived. It wasn’t that he really minded his brother seeing his apartment look a mess, but if he was bringing Jess (which had happened before) he didn’t want to give a bad impression. It didn’t matter that she probably didn’t like him very much anyway – no matter what he thought of the age gap or maturity difference, he wasn’t going to screw this up for Sammy.

It wasn’t long before the buzzer rang and he heard Sammy’s voice over the fuzzy intercom.

“Hey, we’re outside, let us up then!”

Chuckling slightly at his brother’s impatience, Dean pressed the button to open the downstairs door and opened his own to wait for Sammy. A few moments later, he was met with a whirlwind of hair and muscle as he was suddenly engulfed in a hug.

“Missed you too, bitch!”

“Jerk.” Sam replied, stepping back and sorting out his messy hair. 

A shaking blonde head alerted Dean to Jess’ presence, and he smiled at her, his green eyes twinkling.

“Alright, Jess? Sammy taking good care of you?”

“It’s Sam,” Jess and Sam responded in unison, and Dean laughed, stepping aside to let them into the apartment. Pushing the door closed behind him, he flopped down onto a broken chair and waited for them to seat themselves on the couch opposite.

Sam curled his arm around Jess as she sat almost in his lap, and Dean almost had to gag at how cute they were acting.

“So, Sammy, how’s school goin’?”

Sam smiled, his entire face lighting up. “It’s going great! We’re studying the quadratic formula in maths, and I came top of my class in the last test – my teacher thinks I’m going to get an A* in my final exam! Oh, and Zachariah had to drop out of the rugby team because he got injured, and the coach said I could try out to be his replacement, which is awesome. I might have to drop out of history club if I joined though, so I don’t know if I will yet.”

Dean smiled at his brother – the happiness he was emanating made Dean happy, that smile was contagious. He was just glad that Sam was having such a good time.

“That’s great! You should totally join the rugby team, with your height and speed and stuff you’d be killer.”

“It would be a pity if he had to drop out of history club though, he loves history,” Jess commented, “Don’t you sweetie?”

Dean almost gagged. “Yeah, but he’d still be doing mythology club and classic literature or whatever, so it’s not like he wouldn’t be doing any history at all.”

“There’s a difference between fact and fiction you know.” Jess replied patronisingly.

Dean rolled his eyes – he hated it when she got her superiority complex on. Just because he was training to be a mechanic in college didn’t mean he was dumb!

“Hey,” Sammy replied gently, in a way that said ‘be nice!’. Jess instantly quieted down, leaning into Sam and stretching out her legs.

“Thanks, Dean, by the way, for volunteering to model tomorrow. It’s much appreciated!” She smiled at him, and Dean knew this was her way of apologising. Strange girl.

“It’s no problem, I don’t have college on a Thursday anyway. What do I actually have to do?”

“Not much – just pose how they want you to, they know what they’re doing. It might all sound a bit strange, but they know what looks best in the end. If they want you to pose topless or in costume, just go with it – I’m sure that sort of thing doesn’t make you uncomfortable.” Her tone at the end was just a tad too sweet.

“Sammy, what have you been telling her?”

“Nothing!” Sam tried and failed to look innocent. “It’s not my fault if you try and sleep with everyone you meet.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

“I’m hungry!” Jess interrupted. “Shall we go to that Italian place? We had a great time last time we were there, didn’t we Sam sweetie?”

Sam nodded, smiling down at Jess. “The food’s awesome – the company wasn’t bad either.”

She giggled, and Sam leaned down, prompting Dean to clear his throat loudly and stand up.

“Right, Italian it is. I guess that’s the food budget for the next week...”

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ll pay!” Jess chirped, standing up and pulling Sam with her.

“No, you shouldn’t have to do that.” Dean replied.

“I’m paying.” Jess stared at Dean with a steely glint in her eyes. “No arguments.”

“Ooh, you got a feisty one there, Sammy!” Dean joked, reaching over to grab his favourite leather jacket from over the back of the couch.

Sammy pecked Jess briefly on the lips, smiling, before taking her hand and looking at Dean.

“Ready when you are.”


	3. Headfirst For Halos

Dean couldn't help but feel nervous as he walked up the driveway of the Art Academy towards the Main House. For one thing, he really didn't feel like he belonged here – he was a poor, eighteen-year-old college student studying mechanics, not some rich artist! His ripped, old blue jeans, Led Zeppelin t-shirt and red overshirt had to make it obvious how out of place he was – wealthy artists could afford to dress with actual style. Why Jess would think that someone like him would actually be appreciated as a model was a mystery. Then, of course, there was that whole issue to give him nerves – he was expected to pose! He might be asked to pose topless, or naked, or dressed in some awful outfit with a ridiculous expression on his face. Now, Dean wasn't exactly an anxious, introverted person – he didn't socialise often, but that was more to do with the cost and the fact that most people he knew except his brother and Benny were twats – but he still wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with this. It was going to be a very interesting experience.

Reaching the large, double doors of the intimidating building, Dean pushed one open and stepped hesitantly inside, taking in the grand entrance room he was now in. The plush, red carpet looked more expensive than his apartment, and there was a wide, curving wooden staircase leading up to the next floor on his left. The walls were hung with various embroidered tapestries and regal looking portraits – Dean felt a flash of shock run through his system when he realised that all of these had been done by the students (the name plaques underneath gave it away). What on Earth was this place? Forget an art school, this was like somewhere that trained artists for the middle ages.

Unsure of what exactly to do now, Dean noticed a rickety wooden chair on his right and hesitantly sat down, continuing to cast his eyes around. The entire place was silent, quieter than a graveyard at night, and had a seriously imposing aura. He had no idea how the students could possibly be comfortable here – but then again, considering the fees this place probably had, many of them probably lived in houses like this at home. Feeling even more out of place, Dean shrunk down slightly in his chair and pulled out his phone, tapping out a quick text to Jess to ask where he was supposed to go now.

Only a moment later, the door swung open and Dean looked up, startled, as a red-haired girl walked in, wearing a long black coat that accentuated her slim figure and carrying a large black and grey backpack that was slung casually over one shoulder.

When she saw Dean, her eyebrows momentarily knotted, before her face lit up in a warm smile.

"Are you one of the models for Jess' class today?" She asked inquisitively.

Switching on the Winchester charm, he smiled back, standing up as he did so. "Sure am, sweetheart. Could you tell me where I'm supposed to be goin'?"

She laughed, stepping back and hitching her bag more firmly over her shoulder. "I'm in that class, just follow me. Oh, and don't even try with the flirting, I'm a lesbian. My name's Charlie. Charlie Bradbury."

Dean blinked slightly at her frankness, before smiling and falling into step beside her. "Nice to meet you Charlie, I'm Dean Winchester."

"So why did you volunteer to model for us? Not that I'm questioning your credibility or anything, you've obviously got the looks for anyone who appreciates guys, just wondering why anyone cool would want to spend the day sitting around for a load of stuck-up art students."

Dean couldn't help it – he burst out laughing. This girl was a hoot.

"Charlie, you're awesome. Nothing like I expected anyone here to be. But yeah, I don't really wanna be doing this – your teacher, Jess, she's my brother's girlfriend, and together they forced me into it. Not like I've got anythin' better to do anyway."

Charlie shrugged steering them both down a hidden right hand corridor – this place was a maze. Dean had already forgotten where they had gone.

"There are plenty of kids here who are spoilt tossers, no offence to them, but there are also a load of scholarship kids, who are basically the opposite. We tend to stick together and have a laugh. So you're Sam's brother? I am so jealous of that kid, Jess is super hot..."

"Oh she is... although Sammy would kill me if he knew I said that. He's a lucky sod, it's not normal for a sixteen year old nerd to pull someone like her."

Charlie came to an abrupt stop, and Dean faltered, unsure if he had said something wrong.

"Sorry, could you just wait here a minute for me to get my spare camera? I don't know what sort of photographs I'm going to be taking yet, I won't until I've seen all the models and my options, so I might need it. We'll go to the classroom then, 'kay?"

Dean shrugged easily. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

Charlie grinned, before disappearing through a random door with 'Storage' written on it in gold letters. Dean couldn't help but think all the rich, foreign wood and gold touches were a little bit over the top – this was a school, after all, not a palace, and it really didn't need to look this grand. It would almost be tacky if it wasn't for the fact that it was authentic.

"Right, let's go!" Charlie appeared again, now clutching an electric blue camera case covered in badges, and set off down the corridor.

Dean glanced briefly at the badges as he followed her, grinning at the sight of both Star Wars and Harry Potter badges.

"Star Wars? You have a good taste in movies."

Charlie's face lit up. "Oh, I know right! They're like, the most incredible movies ever, although the original trilogy is so much better than the new one. Princess Leia is seriously hot, too... when I turn eighteen, I am totally going to get a tattoo of her somewhere. Maybe on my hip?"

Dean shook his head in amusement. "Wow. You know, at some point we really need to hang out and have a discussion about all this. Not like a date, obviously, just something between friends. Besides, we can discuss all the hot girls and it won't be awkward."

Charlie laughed. "Yeah, sounds good. Just be warned, my schedule for going out is pretty tight – I have to factor in cons, tumblr and things like Star Trek re-runs. Not that it's as good as Star Wars, but I'm still almost addicted."

"I can fit in with any schedule, pretty much, I don't really go out aside from down the pub occasionally with Benny. Besides, I tend to try and avoid that, I don't have the money to finance regular pub visits. It only ever ends up with one or both of us goin' home with random chicks anyway, and that gets boring after a while."

Charlie raised her eyebrows, but didn't reply. A moment later, she stopped outside a red-painted door with 'Miss J Moore' printed onto it.

"Here we go. We won't get much chance to talk now, but you can join the gang at lunch, 'kay?"

With that, Charlie pushed open the door to reveal a large, open art classroom with various machines, computers and easels randomly placed around the room. A few students were already sat down at one end of the room, all looking very proper – these were the rich kids Dean had been expecting. At the other end, almost like there was a divide, a few kids were perched on the edge of desks, dressed much more casually and chatting quietly but passionately about something. Charlie made a beeline straight for them , leading Dean to believe that these were the scholarship kids. He wondered if they were all that awesome.

"Dean! Excellent, you're here early!" Jess crossed the room and stood smartly in front of Dean. He resisted the urge to give her an embarrassing, unprofessional hug.

"Alright, Jess? You couldn't have given me directions on how to navigate this maze, could you?"

She shrugged. "I guessed you'd find your way, or find a student to help you, they're a nice bunch. It's not actually that hard to get around, I've only been here a few months and I know my way."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, if you could go through that door there and wait, I'm sure the other models will be along soon. We'll be starting promptly at 8.30, so if you could just wait a few minutes until then, and we can sort out what you'll be wearing once you've been chosen by a student."

Dean shrugged, heading for the white door Jess had gestured to. He had to admit, the whole system – despite the emphasis on the prompt 8.30 start – was much less strict than he had been expecting. At a place this posh, he had almost been expecting some sort of prison-like watertight schedule, with no room of freedom to do anything other than what you were told. Truth be told, it was all rather nice and relaxed – Dean would almost feel at home here, if it wasn't for the grand decor and the robot-like look of the non-scholarship students.

Dean had barely sat down on a random chair in the side-room before the door opened again and two other guys walked in, both dressed much more extravagantly and expensively than Dean himself.

"Hello, you must be one of the other models. I'm Adam, and this is my friend, Gordon."

"Gordon Walker." The other man corrected, leering at Dean.

"Dean Winchester," Dean smiled, reaching out to shake Adam's hand. He hesitated before going to shake Gordon's, wincing slightly at the other man's over-tight grip.

"Do you know how many of us there are supposed to be?" Adam asked.

Dean looked at the boy's gentle expression and casual posture and decided he liked him, even if he was probably quite posh. Gordon, on the other hand, seemed like he was way too full of himself.

"Well, Jess has about twenty kids in her class, so I would expect there would be maybe one model for every two kids – so ten?"

"It's Miss Moore, not Jess, this is a proper school." Gordon interjected smoothly.

"She's my brother's girlfriend, dickhead, so I call her Jess. I think she even asks her class to, actually, comes with being only a year older than the kids you teach."

"She does seem very young." Adam commented.

"She's some kind of genius, skipped ahead a few grades, got an art scholarship really young, graduated to teach it at eighteen and got accepted here straight away. I don't even know."

"I guess intelligence isn't something you could comprehend." Gordon was clearly annoyed at the way Dean had spoken to him.

"Look, I might not be super-rich like you, but I'm not an idiot. So could you please take your superior attitude and just shove it up your -"

Dean stopped when the door opened again, revealing a pretty, brown haired girl. She looked very wary when she noticed the way Gordon and Dean were glaring at each other.

"Hi, I'm Madison." She said nervously.

Fortunately, Adam stepped in, smiling warmly and holding out his hand like a true gentleman.

"Adam Milligan. This is Dean and Gordon."

"Pleasure to meet you." Dean commented.

"Indeed it is." Dean didn't like the predatory way with which Gordon said that.

There wasn't any time to react though, as the door opened again and about five people piled into the room, which was now getting a little crowded.

A woman stepped in front of the group, smirking. "Hello. I'm Ruby Cortese, and these are my friends from the Drama Academy, Raphael, Arariel, Jophiel and... Garth."

Everyone mumbled introductions, and Dean sat back, feeling a bit strange amongst all of these people who were obviously from completely different backgrounds to him. With the exception of Garth, they were all dressed very expensively – and while Garth's clothes were much more eccentric, he was obviously unperturbed by how he stood out, as he was smiling extremely widely. Dean basically faded into the background, and he allowed his thoughts to wander as he sat there surrounded by conversation.

He was forced back into reality by the appearance of Jess, accompanied by another girl who was presumably the tenth model.

"Alright, everyone, if you'd all like to come out here and stand at the front so everyone can get a good look at you."

Dean stood up and followed everyone else out the door, ending up stood next to the newcomer on the end of the line. He noticed that the room had filled up in the few minutes he had been away, and everyone was now sat upright in their seats, looking very attentively at the models.

"I'm Lisa."

Dean turned his head slightly to the right, seeing the new girl smiling flirtatiously at him.

"Hey, Lisa. I'm Dean, Dean Winchester."

Lisa opened her mouth to reply, but Dean's attention was suddenly caught by a guy sitting in the middle of the classroom, in the area between the scholarship and paying students.

He was sat alone, obviously either excluded by the others or favouring isolation, and wearing a heavy looking cream trenchcoat. His black hair was messy, like he had just got out of bed after a night of hot sex, and his hands were slender and perfectly formed, with fingers that looked sculpted from marble. The most noticeable thing however, was his eyes – enormous, expressive blue eyes that seemed to see right into Dean's soul. He was staring right at Dean like he was a puzzle he couldn't work out, and as Dean looked back he cocked his head to one side, before seeming to realise what he was doing and turning away slightly awkwardly.

Dean couldn't help but feel strangely intrigued about this boy – there was something about him that seemed a bit different, and Dean couldn't work out what it was.

His musings were interrupted by Jess stepping in front of him and addressing the class.

"Right, so you all know what sort of styles of portraits you're going for and therefore who here would suit your purpose. Baring that in mind, who wants to photograph Dean here?"

Dean blinked – this could be very embarrassing if he wasn't chosen.

"I would please, Miss." A boy towards the back of the 'posh' side spoke up, raising his hand in the air like a younger kid.

"Alright, Michael, that's fine."

At this point, Dean's eyes widened almost out of his head as the guy who had been staring at him earlier, the guy with the amazing eyes, put his hand up as well.

"I would like to photograph Dean as well."

Jess gave a gentle smile at the boy, and Dean wondered what the deal with this kid was – she was treating him like a five year old with mental health problems who needed extra encouragement.

"That's great, Castiel. Would you and Michael like to take Dean into the West photography suite then, and you can discuss what you all want to do?"

Michael looked distinctly irritated at being paired with Castiel, but Castiel was only looking at Dean, and Dean found himself almost forced to look back. Those eyes were hypnotic, and staring into tjem was almost addictive.

Forcing himself out of his trance, Dean shook his head and smiled at Castiel and Michael, following Michael as smiled stiffly before walking out of the room. He registered Castiel stepping in behind him, his eyes staring so intently at Dean's head that he could feel the gaze like a physical touch.

Castiel. Dean suppressed a shiver at the name. He had known the guy for a few minutes – well, he still didn't know him at all, really – and already he was developing some kind of strange obsession. This was never going to end well.


	4. Road To Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV

Castiel just couldn't stop himself from staring as he followed Dean down the corridor. The man's leather jacket fit his clearly muscular frame very snugly, and was exactly the right shade of brown to perfectly compliment his blonde hair, and his jeans were moulded to his gorgeous ass without looking too tight or restricting. Occasionally he would glance back, and Castiel would have to force himself to look away and not meet the man's amazing, bright green eyes. Their shade of green was barely describable – until this moment, he hadn't realised a green that bright and sparkling could actually exist. Castiel thought he could spend hours just staring into the depths of those eyes – he was so glad that he had the excuse to study Dean as he was using him as a model.

He had no idea why this man was affecting him so much. Normally, Castiel was excellent at distancing himself from those around him – and by doing so, he found that he didn't really notice them or experience any sort of attraction. There had never been anyone who Castiel had felt compelled to get to know in any way. Yet as soon as he had laid eyes on this Dean, he had felt himself drawn to every aspect of him and desperate to get to know him. It wasn't just his incredible looks – although, loathe as Castiel was to admit it, they did play a part – it was the way he held himself, like he didn't truly belong and felt uncomfortable about this fact, yet still chose to display an amount of confidence that probably at times bordered on cocky.

Castiel was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed Michael and Dean had stopped outside the studio, almost waking into Dean as a result.

"Woah, watch out there, Cas! Are you alright?" Dean put out a hand to stop Castiel, and he was forced to suppress a pleasant shudder at the contact. What was wrong with him today?

"My apologies – I was lost in thought." Castiel spoke quietly, not making eye contact with Dean.

Suddenly realising something, he looked up and tilted his head sideways, staring intently at the wall behind Dean's head.

"Cas?"

Dean's cheeks reddened slightly – a response which confused and fascinated Castiel.

"Sorry... I have a habit of nicknaming people. I hope you don't mind?"

Castiel blinked. "I have never been called that before."

"Really? No offence, but your name's kind of a mouthful." Dean was looking sheepish, standing there slightly awkwardly with an expression that Castiel couldn't decipher.

"Is it?" Castiel wasn't entirely sure how to respond. "I suppose you could call me Cas, if it's easier for you. I may not respond immediately, however."

Dean shrugged. "Cas it is."

Castiel thought he was imagining the slight smile that crossed Dean's face as he made this statement. It didn't make sense anyhow.

He heard the sound of a throat being cleared and glanced up to see Michael holding the door open.

"I'm very sorry, but if you two would mind saving the flirtation for another time, I for one would like to complete this assignment."

Castiel gave another confused head tilt. Flirting? He wasn't flirting with Dean – was he? He couldn't be – Castiel didn't do flirting, he didn't even do friendship let alone anything more. Michael must be confused.

Shrugging minutely, Castiel made his way past Michael into the studio, setting his bag down at the back. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice the bright red flush now covering Dean's face, nor the cute way in which he nibbled his lip in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

"Right then." Michael made his way to stand in front of Dean, making it obvious that he was going to be the one in charge. Not that Castiel was complaining – the feelings that he was beginning to get regarding Dean were entirely inappropriate considering that his work did not allow him to pursue any kind of relationship, friendly or otherwise. He was going to have to distance himself in case either of them got the wrong idea.

"I have decided that for my portrait portfolio, I am going to focus on very traditional portraits depicting the various, ahem, groups of society. I am going to use one model, which is you, and pose you in a variety of different postures and costumes, each one of which will turn you in to a fundamentally different person. This is in order to gain a greater understanding of how to create a certain stereotype." Michael smiled, the expression looking quite uncomfortable on his face.

"Cool." Dean didn't seem particularly pleased or displeased with the suggestion. "What's Cas doing?"

Michael glanced stiffly back at Castiel, who remained stood in the shadows at the back.

"I prefer my portraits to be more natural. I will stay at the back of the room at take photographs when I see a good opportunity. Your clothing at the moment is more than adequate, but if Michael wishes for you to wear other clothes then I can work with that."

Michael seemed pleased that Castiel wasn't interfering. "Excellent. Now, I will need to apply some light makeup in order for you to look the correct way in this lighting. Shall we begin?"

The next few hours passed both insanely quickly and exceptionally slowly for Castiel. The time seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, yet at the same time, it seemed to slow down almost to a stop every time he focused his eye through his camera lens to take a photograph of Dean. His entire world had shrunk down to consist only of Dean – the way he became alert and glanced at the door every time he heard a noise from outside, the way he brushed a few strands of hair back when they tickled his forehead, the way his freckles shone when a beam of light shot through a gap in the blackout blinds. Castiel found himself taking dozens more shots than he had initially anticipated, capturing every aspect of Dean in all sorts of random costumes – all dictated exactly by Michael.

The most difficult time was when Michael asked Dean to strip off and do a photograph in just a pair of low-cut skinny jeans that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, combined with his heavy black boots and a ring of black eyeliner. Castiel had never really felt sexual attraction to anybody – he found that by not permitting himself to look at anyone in that way, he was able to avoid it – yet the sight of Dean shirtless, his defined chest prominently displayed in the strange pose Michael had placed him in, stirred something in Castiel that he was not aware he was able to feel. It almost scared him, but he still found himself succumbing to the urge to take many more photos of Dean like this than in any other position, including a few close-ups of how bright his eyes looked surrounded by the smoky, dark make-up.

Eventually, a loud bell rang signalling that it was time for lunch, and Castiel blinked in surprise – he hadn't realised what time it was. Hastily, he packed away his camera, spare lenses and tripod, placing them quickly but carefully in his bag before making his way to the door.

Michael had cornered Dean to talk to him about some aspect of the photoshoot, so Castiel expected he could slip away, but to his surprise he found Dean calling out to him.

"Wait one sec Cas, I want to ask you something. About the shoot."

Shocked, Castiel simply stood there in the doorway, not doing anything as Michael finished whatever he was saying before handing Dean a pack of make-up wipes and walking out, raising his eyebrows at Castiel as he did so.

""You can shut the door." Dean commented, walking over to a mirror in the corner and starting to wipe at his face.

Not entirely sure why he was here, Castiel shut the door and awkwardly walked over to Dean.

"You had a question about the photoshoot?"

"Why are you letting Michael call all the shots?"

Dean's question came quickly and bluntly, but also curiously, showing that he was genuinely interested in Castiel's actions.

"I prefer my shots to have a natural, less posed feel about them – I find that capturing you in the moments between his photographs allows me to do that. Is that a problem?"

"No." Dean chucked the wipe he was using in the bin and pulled out another one. "It just seems like you're slightly intimidated and trying not to disagree with Michael. I mean, if you want me to try and look natural, I can do that, this is a photoshoot for both of you, not just him."

"I'm not intimidated." Castiel's voice was monotonous, but inside he was confused – was his silence really mistaken for intimidation? More than that – was it actually intimidation and he hadn't even realised himself?

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Why don't you really talk then, or make your opinions known?"

This was getting uncomfortably personal.

"No offence, Dean, but I don't share personal facts with others. I do not even know you."

"What if I wanted you to know me?" Dean's face was frighteningly open and honest.

"Why?" Castiel was even more confused.

Dean shrugged, looking unsure. "There's just something about you – I dunno what it is exactly, just some kind of vibe you give off. You intrigue me, you seem like a cool guy, and I'd just like to get to know you. Y'know, spend more time with you than just today."

Castiel found himself really pleased about this fact, and really wanting to get to know Dean to. But it went against the deal he had made with himself long ago, when he decided work was more important.

"I'm sorry, but I don't spend time with people, outside of the Academy. At all."

Dean looked very confused, and Castiel stepped back, deciding he had better remove himself from the situation before he did something he would regret.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to go and have lunch."

Without pausing to look at Dean again, Castiel shouldered his bag and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.


	5. The Go-Slow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV

Dean was very quiet when he sat down for lunch with Charlie and her friends – who had been hastily introduced as Becky, Kevin and Madison – and was barely paying attention to their enthusiastic chatter. His head was swimming in confusion after his encounter with Cas. The guy was like some kind of impossible riddle, but despite all of that, he really wanted to figure him out. The really strange thing, though, was the way Cas had reacted when Dean had suggested getting to know him. He knew it was perhaps a bit presumptuous asking to see him again when they had barely spoken to each other, but he felt inexplicably drawn to Castiel and wanted a chance to figure that out. Still, the last thing he had expected was that response.

"I'm sorry, but I don't spend time with people, outside of the Academy. At all."

What did that even mean? That he was a recluse? Or was it just his way of getting Dean to back off because he really didn't like him?

"Hey, Dean! You're daydreaming more than I do after I've watched a new movie with Scarlett Johansson in it! What's put your head in the clouds?" Charlie nudged him and Dean blinked slightly as he realised where he was.

"Sorry, I'm just... thinkin' about stuff."

Becky suddenly gasped, gesturing wildly at Dean. "You've got the hots for Castiel!"

Dean's eyes widened and he spluttered slightly. "What? No!" How could this girl tell who he was thinking about?

"Oh don't deny it, I saw you two looking at each other when you first came in! I'm going to call it... Destiel! That's it, Destiel! Oh, you two will be so adorable together..."

Dean could feel himself turning bright red. Fortunately, he was saved by Kevin rolling his eyes and interrupting Becky's flow.

"Don't mind her, ever since she started dating Chuck and he got her into her first fandom she's been obsessed with gay shipping. Ignore it. We all do."

Becky mock-slapped Kevin. "Hey! All of my ships are should totally be canon – and Destiel is obvious!"

Feeling slightly awkward, Dean turned to Madison, the only member of the group who wasn't joining in the discussion.

"Are they always like this?"

She laughed, before taking another bite of her sandwich. "Pretty much. Becky and Charlie spend half the time fangirling over fictional characters, and Kevin tries to keep them in line and stop them harassing real people too much. I just tend to stay out of it, it's pointless arguing with Becky, you never win."

Dean wasn't entirely sure how to continue the conversation, but he wanted to avoid discussing Cas, so he randomly asked,

"So what sort of artwork do you normally do?"

Madison shrugged. "Personally, I'm into abstract horror stuff. I take a normal everyday thing, or a person, and I twist them into a form of abstract horror. Jess hates it – it's the only thing I don't like about having her as a teacher, she doesn't like anything evil or gothic. Last year's teacher, Alastair, he was a complete dick to everyone but he loved my work, even if he hated me. He had some great ideas for making everything more terrifying."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Fair enough. I wouldn't have pegged you as the horror type, to be honest."

Madison laughed again, brushing sandwich crumbs off her hands before sitting back. "What, because I go around wearing paint-covered baggy shirts and no makeup when I'm at the Academy? You should see me when the local boarding school holds open parties and invites Academy kids – I give Ruby a run for her money."

"Ruby, as in, Ruby Cortese who I met earlier?" Dean could vaguely recall the girl who had introduced herself at the start of the day – straight brown hair, black leather jacket, skinny jeans. Not exactly gothic, but certainly in a similar scene.

"That's the one. She can seem like a real bitch, but she's nice when you get to know her. Looks after her own if you know what I mean."

"Are you photographing her then?"

Madison shook her head. "Nah, I did that last year, for Alastair. We're sort of friends, and she says modelling's a nice sideline to acting. I've got Lisa Braeden. She's alright, a serious girly girl but it makes her a nice challenge to do in my usual style. The face she made when I told her she had to go gothic was priceless, I should have taken a picture of that."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I can imagine that."

A loud bell rang again, and Madison stood up, pulling her backpack over one shoulder.

"You ready, Kevin?" She called.

Kevin walked up and Dean smiled at both of them.

"It was nice meeting you."

"You too." Madison smiled, before wandering off.

"Yeah. Sorry about Becky, she's nuts. Especially with new people." Kevin clapped Dean on the shoulder before following Madison.

Dean shook his head. Another few hours of following Michael's orders and trying to work out what to do about Cas. Well, at least if he wasn't required to talk he could think in peace. He needed to come up with a plan to either get Cas out of his head – probably the best option – or work out how to get Cas to trust him so that they could get to know each other. The ting was though, Dean's only friends were his brother Sammy and possibly Benny – and Benny he only put up with because they were garage partners at college. Friendship wasn't exactly his forte – he supposed the fact that he spent all his time looking after his brother had something to do with that. When you never had time to make friends growing up, you got a bit out of practise.

It was only then that Dean realised everyone had wandered off and he had no idea how to find his way back to the right studio. Great. Well, this should be fun...

A few hours later, Dean had a serious headache.

It wasn't that it was bad modelling for Michael – he seemed to have eased off a bit on the military precision, and was allowing Dean to relax a bit more, following Castiel's idea of natural shots. True, he was using lighting that was way too bright and making Dean squint a bit, but aside from that there was nothing physically giving Dean a headache. No, the source of this particular problem was Cas – and Dean had no idea what to do about it.

When Dean had arrived back at the studio – ten minutes late, after getting lost and having to ask some random person who looked very irritated for help – Cas had once again been set up at the back, nice and out of the way. He had avoided eye contact with Dean, and for a moment Dean had forced him to the back of his mind, instead listening to Michael and getting changed into a new set of clothes, before reapplying his makeup and posing himself on the park bench which had randomly appeared in front of the screen.

However, after that Cas had not stopped staring. Of course, he had to look at Dean in order to photograph him, but it was much more intense than it needed t be – and half the time, it was like he seemed to have forgotten about his camera and was just boring his eyes into Dean's skull. Dean had very carefully masked his discomfort, assuming the calm facial expression that he needed for this modelling thing, but inside it had set his thoughts whirring at such a speed that now it was making his head hurt. He really needed to stop thinking about Cas – but how could he when the guy was practically attacking him with his eyes? Cas had claimed not to want anything to do with Dean, yet with the way he was acting, Dean was getting an entirely different story – and it confused him. He didn't like being this confused. This was why it was so much easier when he didn't interact with people outside of his family, college and the occasional one-night stand.

Dean's train of thought was broken when Michael stepped up onto the modelling platform.

"Thank-you very much, that's all done now. We need to go back to Miss Moore's classroom so that you can be debriefed, and you will be allowed to see mine and Castiel's finished artwork at the end of the term when it was been graded."

Dean blinked, standing up. "Cool. Shall I just get changed again then?"

"Wait." Castiel's voice drifted out from the back of the classroom.

"It's the end of the day, Castiel, we need to finish now." Michael's voice was firm.

"One more picture. It won't take long. You can go on, explain we will both be there in a few minutes."

Michael nodded stiffly, before starting to pack up his camera.

"Ok, Cas... what do you want me to do?" Dean was surprised that Cas had asked.

"Go and lean on the edge of the park bench. Yes, like that. Out your hands in your pockets. Now, tilt your head back slightly – yes, there – and look up. Like you're watching birds."

Dean assumed the requested pose, trying to ignore the slight crick in his neck that it gave him.

"That alright?"

"Yes." Cas was silent for a few moments, and Dean heard Michael leave.

"You have beautiful eyes." Cas suddenly said.

Dean blinked, and barely avoided moving out of position. He could feel his cheeks heat up. Why would Cas say that?

"Um, thanks."

"Don't mention it." Cas was quiet again.

Dean had no idea to think. After everything that Cas had said earlier, was he hitting on him? It was a very strange situation.

"I'm done now. You can get changed, I'll wait for you."

Dean stood up, moving his neck around to ease the slight stiffness. "Thanks, Cas. Get some good pictures?"

"I believe I have some suitable photographs, yes."

Dean nodded, pulling off the jacket and shirt he was wearing before hunting around for his own.

"Here." Dean turned to see that Cas was holding his shirt.

"Thanks." Dean reached out to take it, not missing the way that Castiel's eyes raked over his bare chest.

"What you said before, about wanting to get to know me." Castiel interjected suddenly. "I – I wouldn't mind that. I looked over my schedule, I have time in the week. I wouldn't know what to do, though. I've never really socialised with anyone before."

Dean paused from where he was pulling his jeans on. "Sounds great, Cas! But why have you never really hung out with anyone before? You seem cool, I'm sure there are plenty of people who'd love to be your friend."

"Work has always been more important. When I was younger, my family was – they were strict with what I could and couldn't do. Friends didn't really fit. Now I've escaped from that, I need to work to remain here. I never really thought about making friends, it would take too much time."

Dean blinked. Cas was a strange guy, there was no doubt about that.

"Well, I'd be honoured to be your first."

Dean closed his eyes and silently berated himself. Why had he made that sound so sexual? He didn't know if Cas liked him in that way – he didn't even know if he truly liked Cas that way either.

"Are you done? We need to go back to the classroom."

Dean finished buckling his belt and grabbed his jacket. "Yup. Let's go."

The walk back was mostly held in comfortable silence.

"So, when are you free then? On your schedule?" Dean felt slightly weird saying that.

"I was thinking Tuesday evenings between six and seven, if you're free. I don't know where to arrange a meeting place though."

Dean thought for a moment. "Yeah, I'm free most evenings, as long as I can get away from Benny. You can come to my place if you want – it's not great though, yours is probably better."

"Yours will be fine, if you are comfortable with that." Cas paused. "Is Benny your boyfriend?"

Dean stopped walking, shocked. "What? No, he's my garage partner at college. He likes to drag me along to the pub to pick up chicks. He's like, the straightest dude ever, seriously."

"And you are as well?" Castiel asked.

Dean wasn't entirely sure where Cas was going with this. "I'm not sure. I mean, I've only been with girls, but I'm not exactly adverse to trying things with a guy. I just never have. Maybe I'm bi-curious or something?"

Castiel nodded, seeming satisfied with that answer.

"So, if we're gonna meet up, can I have your mobile number? That way I can text you my address or whatever."

"I do not have a mobile device."

"Seriously?" Dean was amazed that any teenager nowadays could survive without a mobile.

"I have an email address for the Academy, if you would like that."

"Yeah, that works." Dean smiled internally as he traded email addresses with Cas. It felt like some kind of achievement.

Realising that they had arrived back at the classroom, Dean gestured to Cas to go in first before following him in, subtly checking out his ass as he did.

"Right, that's everyone back. I hope everyone got some good photographs, and I hope all the models enjoyed that experience." Jess smiled at everyone.

Well, Dean had to admit, the day had had its perks – Cas being one of them.

"The portraits and other artwork that is done based on those photographs will be showcased on an open evening in one months time. All of the models are welcome to come to that. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed today, and you may all leave." Jess looked at Dean. "Can I talk to you?"

Dean had expected to stay behind, so just leant against the wall as everyone filed out. He raised his eyebrows at Lisa Braeden, who winked very obviously at him, and smiled as Charlie and her friends left the room. Cas was the last to leave – he nodded at Dean as he did, and Dean couldn't help but grin back.

"I'm sure that wasn't too bad, was it?" Jess asked, gathering her own stuff up.

"It was bearable... there are some nice people here."

"I noticed you had lunch with the scholarship group – I presume you're talking about them?"

"Charlie's certainly awesome, and Madison's nice enough, as is Kevin – Becky's insane, strange kid."

Jess laughed. "I don't speak ill of my students, but I know what you mean." She paused, gesturing for Dean to step out the door. "What did you think of Castiel and Michael?"

"You want me to assess your students?" Dean thought for a moment. "Michael's alright – very much a follower of the rules, he must be from a rich, military background. He called all the shots, but he knew what he was doing, and he wasn't harsh about it really. Just strict."

"His dad's very high up in the military and his mum's a fashion designer. I think the idea is that he'll join the army if he doesn't do well enough in the art or design world. What about Castiel?"

"He's a weird kid. Extremely nice, but weird. Doesn't seem to fit in."

Jess sighed. "I haven't been here long, but from what I can tell, he's from a bit of a troubled background and he tries to distance himself from people. I feel sorry for him, he doesn't seem to have any friends. I know the other scholarship kids would accept him if that was what he wanted, but he chooses to stay away from everyone. He's one of the most talented artists I've ever met, entirely eclectic with no real pattern, but a great artist. I'm trying to encourage him out of his shell, but it's not easy."

Dean decided not to mention his burgeoning friendship with Cas – nor his blooming attraction, which was probably one-sided. Jess was acting too much like an over-protective mother.

"I really wanted to ask you, though – do you think Sam's going off me?"

Dean spluttered. "What? Why would you think that? Sammy adores you, he's bloody lucky to have you, he's not gonna waste that."

Jess gave Dean a stern look. "It's not all about looks you know. Look, Sam's a clever guy, and he likes intellectual girls – he likes to be able to talk about stuff. I'm not really challenging enough for him – I might be ahead of others my age in the art world, but when it comes to traditional subjects, I'm really behind, and I think that bothers him. He'd never say anything, but I can tell he's having doubts."

"Jess, I know Sammy – I practically raised him, and I'm still looking after him now, when he's not at school. Trust me, he loves you, he really does, I've never seen him act with anyone else like he does with you. Just talk to him if you're not sure about things."

Jess didn't look sure, but she smiled anyway.

"Thank-you, Dean. I'll see you for dinner tomorrow then, at the Roadhouse."

"See you."

Dean wandered out of the Academy and sighed. After meeting Cas and Jess and Sammy's relationship showing its first problems, today had certainly been eventful. He really needed to take a long shower and relax before work tomorrow.

Actually, considering how he was starting to feel about Cas, a cold shower might be a better idea...


	6. Calm Before The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV

Castiel collapsed onto his bed, still wearing his outdoor shoes and trenchcoat, entirely unsure about what he had just done. It had been so out of character for him, yet at the time, it had just seemed so right. There had been something about that man – Dean – that had made him disregard everything that he had told himself when he had moved here and agree to try out a friendship with him. Possibly more. Castiel didn't even know why he had been so captivated by Dean's incredible green eyes and muscular body, nor why he had found the man's strangely observant and caring personality just as attractive. This was dangerous territory that he was entering, but despite all of the risks and changes that it carried, Castiel knew that he didn't regret giving his email address to Dean.

Knowing that he couldn't just sit and contemplate what had happened all evening, Castiel sat up and glanced at the bag that he had uncharacteristically dumped on his immaculate bedroom floor when he walked in. He supposed that he should look through all the photographs that he had taken today and decide which the best ones were and what he should do with them. Besides, looking through numerous pictures of Dean would give him an excuse to think about him.

Sighing lightly, Castiel bent down to remove his shoes, placing them on the shoe rack in the corner, before removing his trenchcoat and hanging it on the hook on the back of his door. Rolling up his sleeves, he picked up his bag and set it on the bed, rooting through it to find his camera case. Once he had found it, Castiel carried the camera over to the tidy desk in the corner of the room and plugged it into his laptop, turning the laptop on at the same time. Ignoring the various pop-up antivirus and update warnings that appeared (Castiel had never had any idea how to deal with things like that – he was intelligent, but not entirely technologically adept for non-Academy related things), he brought up his images before stopping and simply staring at the first photograph that appeared.

It showed Dean dressed in a smart red shirt tucked into a pair of black suit trousers, with a black tie tightly drawn around his neck and a pair of shiny black shoes on his feet. One of his legs was crossed over the other and he was looking away from the camera, a peaceful expression on his face. Castiel felt his breath catch in his throat as he took in the clearly defined muscles visible through the tight fabric of the shirt, and the way Dean's green eyes practically glowed under the lights. He had a real thing for smartness, and the way that Dean looked there was doing things to Castiel that he hadn't ever thought he would feel. When he had took the picture he hadn't been able to appreciate how attractive Dean looked as he had been concentrating – it was surprising just how amazing the pictures had turned out.

It took Castiel nearly two hours to go through all the photographs, mostly because he kept stopping to admire Dean – it was unnatural the way that he managed to look perfect in every single picture and outfit. Castiel had no idea how he was going to manage to do justice to these pictures, and indeed to Dean himself, when he recreated them. It was certainly going to be a challenge. Closing his eyes, Castiel allowed himself to dream about Dean, pondering what mediums he would look best in. He found himself really wanting to please Dean with his artwork, meaning he was going to have to try twice as hard to get everything right.

Castiel was interrupted from his thoughts by a small 'ding' from the laptop announcing that he had a new email.

Embarrassingly quickly, Castiel clicked on the notification and brought up the email, smiling widely at the fact it was from Dean.

"Hey Cas,

We still on for Tuesday? If you want to come over, any time after 5.30 is cool – I live at number 6 in Red Block, South Apartment Complex. I'm sure you know where it is. I can order in takeout and we can chat or watch a movie or whatever, I don't care. What's your favourite takeaway?

Dean"

Castiel raised his eyebrows at Dean's address – everyone from the Academies or boarding school had heard of that apartment complex, including him and he wasn't exactly well informed. It was the shadiest part of town. You only went there if you wanted to buy or sell drugs or were so poor that you had nowhere else to go. Castiel was nowhere near rich, but with some help from Gabriel and the Academy he had managed to find a flat outside of that area. He was slightly less sure about meeting Dean now that he knew where he lived; but then again, he had been down there before to photograph graffiti for his artwork, and 5.30 was before dark, so it should be safe. Hopefully Dean could walk him back if he stayed after dark, or he could just leave beforehand to avoid the problem.

Deciding not to mention it in case Dean was offended, he carefully replied,

"Dean,

I will be at your apartment at 5.30pm on Tuesday. I enjoy eating burgers when I get takeaway, so could you please order some for me – I will pay for them when I arrive. I do not normally watch movies as I do not have the time. Is that an enjoyable pastime?

Yours Sincerely,

Castiel Novak."

Castiel nodded as he hit send, fairly confident that his email had been appropriate for a conversation between friends. He really had no experience of any of this.

Dean's response was swift, and Castiel was startled that it appeared so quickly.

"Cas,

You don't need to put 'yours sincerely' at the bottom, dude! Haha, burgers? It's nice to know that you have good taste, unlike Sammy and his salads... you don't need to pay, I'll pay, my treat. How can you not watch movies? I am going to have to start educating you in the awesomeness that is Star Wars, just you wait.

Dean"

Castiel frowned, puzzled, before turning off the laptop and going to make dinner. It was hard work attempting to socially interact; he had no idea why so many people regularly did this for fun.

/ / / / /

The next day, Castiel arrived into school early – something he very rarely did because he liked to avoid the stares of his classmates – to set everything up to start his artwork of Dean. He had decided that he was going to start with a charcoal drawing of one of his close-ups of Dean's face, to highlight the shadows in the picture. Ignoring the whispers of everyone else, he set up his laptop so that he could see the picture before heading to the cupboard to try and find a new set of charcoal sticks (his were all very well used, and newer sticks gave greater precision).

Castiel was just emerging from the cupboard with his prize in hand when he bumped into Charlie, who was carrying a pot of water that promptly spilt all over the floor.

"Woops!" Charlie exclaimed, stepping backwards.

"I'm very sorry." Castiel apologised hurriedly, tucking the charcoal in his trouser pocket as he bent down to wipe up the mess.

"It's fine, leave it, it doesn't matter." Charlie smiled at Castiel, pulling out a towel to mop the water up.

Castiel nodded, standing up, but before he could walk away he was stopped by Charlie putting her hand on his arm.

"Why don't you eat with us today? You always have your lunch alone, and we don't bite." Charlie paused, "Hard."

Castiel shook his head. "I like spending time alone. I will probably be working during lunch anyway; I have a huge amount to do for this project."

"You find Dean inspiring, eh?" Charlie teased.

Castiel didn't understand that she was teasing. "Yes, I do. He makes excellent subject matter."

Charlie's jaw basically dropped. "No way?! Becky was right!"

Castiel frowned. "I am afraid that I do not understand."

Charlie just grinned, patting him on the shoulder before walking away, excitedly dropping into her seat next to Becky and Madison and starting to talk too quietly for Castiel to hear.

Castiel frowned in confusion before deciding it was probably unimportant and returning to his seat. Taking out the charcoal he had found, he set everything up ready before sitting quietly, feeling slightly out of place, until Jess entered the room.

She looked hassled and tired, her blonde hair in a messy bun as opposed to her usual smart hairdo and her makeup a little smudged. Worry lines were obvious on her forehead and for the first time Castiel could remember she looked older than her nineteen years. He could tell straight away that she was unhappy about something, despite how inept he usually was with emotions.

"Right, morning everyone!" She tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "Today you're all going to start work on your portraits. I'm going to be at the front here if anyone needs any advice or inspiration, but I suggest that everyone just starts now, I'm sure you all know what you're doing. Resources are in the cupboard or next door as normal. Does anyone not know what to start with?"

There was no response, and Jess looked relieved, turning away from the class and switching on her computer.

Dismissing her, Castiel picked out a charcoal pencil and looked over the blank piece of paper he was starting with, glancing at the photograph to find a place to start. Biting his lip in concentration, he began to work.

For the rest of the day, Castiel's mind was entirely taken up with drawing Dean. He barely even noticed the other students moving to and fro, hushed conversations springing up every now and then, or when the bell rang for first break. He didn't even register when the bell rang again to indicate that everyone could go for lunch – instead, he continued working, using his thumb to smudge the charcoal slightly for a better effect. He was so engrossed that he jumped when someone tapped his shoulder, only just avoiding making an unwanted mark on his drawing.

"Castiel?" Someone said gently, and Castiel looked up, noticing Jess stood above him.

"Yes?" He asked simply, setting the charcoal stick down.

"It's lunch time, everyone else is outside. Why don't you take a fifteen minute break at least to have lunch?" Her voice was gentle, but also urgent, as if she really wanted him to leave.

"I need to finish this section – I'm almost done, it just needs a few more touches. I'm not hungry."

"You need to get some fresh air at least – you've been inside all morning."

Castiel just blinked, unmoving. He had no real wish to go outside with everyone else, and he really wasn't hungry - he didn't eat all that much.

Jess looked concernedly at him, before glancing down at the half-finished picture of Dean's face.

"This is really good!" She complimented. "You put a lot of care into sketching this."

"Yes." Castiel answered, not bothering to give more than a one word answer. He wasn't sure why Jess was still talking to him.

"It'll be even better if you get some fresh air to inspire yourself."

Castiel sighed. "You want me to leave."

Jess looked slightly awkward, but Castiel stood, picking up his trenchcoat and folding down the lid of the laptop. Without saying anything, he walked out. People were very strange sometimes.

Behind him, Jess looked very relieved, closing the door before taking out her phone and quickly dialling Sam's number.


	7. Could Tell A Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV

There was only half-an-hour before Castiel was due to arrive, and Dean was indescribably nervous. He hadn't actually had anyone over like this, aside from Sammy and Sammy's friends, since before his mum died when he was four. He had been too embarrassed to bring his friends home when they might see John drunk, and once he moved out here he had been too busy making sure Sammy was fine and scraping through his mechanics course to arrange dates. If this even was a date. Dean wasn't entirely sure if Cas had understood that this was intended to be a date – the guy was even more clueless about socialising than Dean was, and he hadn't thought that that was possible. All things considered, it was no wonder that Dean felt drawn to him – he probably saw more of himself in Cas than he would care to admit. Cas just wasn't as good at hiding it.

Trying to focus, Dean turned to face the mirror again and smoothed down the plaid shirt he was wearing. He hadn't known what exactly he was supposed to wear, so he had gone with a casual but nice shirt paired with a pair of his favourite, not too ripped jeans. Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Cas wasn't going to understand Casual and would arrive in a suit – either that or he would still be dressed in paint splattered artist clothes hidden beneath that ridiculous trenchcoat. Not that the clothes would be staying on if Dean had any say in it...

'No. Focus Dean.' He told himself. 'This isn't a normal one-night stand. This is Castiel. You can't proposition him on the first almost-date.'

Shaking his head to try and chase away the errant thoughts, Dean walked out and picked up the takeout menu that was lying on the sofa. He hadn't ordered yet, not sure which burger Castiel would want, but he figured that he could figure out what he wanted now. It would at least stop his thoughts wandering in inappropriate directions.

Dean had only just finished glancing over the list of options when his phone rang. Cursing to himself, Dean almost tripped over the battered coffee table trying to make his way back into the bedroom to find his phone. After chucking his pillows to the side of the room and almost tripping over a hammer he had abandoned on the floor, Dean finally spotted it under a pile of paper on his messy desk and grabbed it, recognising the caller as Sam.

"Hey, Sammy boy!"

"Hey Dean... look, it's about Jess again."

Dean sighed. "Sammy, you've been calling me, like, twice a day since I last saw you about Jess. You need to talk to her if you've got this many problems."

"I know." Sam paused, and Dean heard him take a breath. "It's just, she's an amazing girl, and I really do like her, but she's older and I think she's chasing more serious commitment, and I'm not ready for that. I'm 16, I want to check out my options before I settle down, you know? She doesn't get that."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, if I was a chick and my boyfriend said he wanted to 'check out his options', I would be pissed too."

"Not helping, Dean."

"What do you want me to say? This isn't my problem, Sammy – I can't help you with this one. Talk to Jess, and if it's not workin', take a break to try and sort things out. I don't care."

Sam sighed down the phone. "You're right – thanks, Dean. I'm sorry about all this."

"Whatever. Bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean laughed, glancing at the time. "Listen, I've gotta go. You still dropping by here tomorrow like normal?"

"Oh! You've got your date with that student of Jess's – Cas! Try not to destroy his innocence too badly."

"Shut up!"

"I'm joking... but yeah, I'll see you tomorrow. I don't know if Jess will, though." Sam sounded sad as he finished the sentence.

"Bye." Dean hung up abruptly, really not wanting to continue that conversation. He loved his brother, he really did, but Sammy could be such an idiot sometimes and Dean didn't want to have to deal with someone else's issues right now. He had been caring for Sam all his life, but there came a time when you had to step back and show them that some decisions had to be made on your own.

As if on cue, the buzzer rang, breaking Dean's trail of thought and bringing back the nerves that he had been fighting earlier. Smoothing out his shirt once again and absent-mindedly fiddling with the collar, he walked over to the intercom and pressed the button to talk.

"Yeah?"

"Um, hello... it's Castiel. How do I get into the building?"

Dean chuckled at his obvious obliviousness. "Do you not have this system where you live? I have to let you up – hang on; I'll unlock the door for you."

Dean heard the sound of Castiel fidgeting as he signalled for the door to be opened.

"Right, you can come on up now. See you in a few."

There was no reply, so Dean just awkwardly stood by the door waiting for Cas to come up.

A few minutes later, however, and there was still no sign of him. Confused, Dean opened the door and almost fell backwards in shock at the sight of Cas standing there, staring very intently at the wall above the doorway with a confused look on his face.

"Woah, Cas! Knock next time, ok?"

Cas just titled his head to one side in an adorable manner and continued to stare at the apparently blank wall above the door.

"Um, okay... do you want to come in?"

Cas finally looked down, meeting Dean's eyes. "That would be nice."

Dean stepped back, unsure of what exactly to do. This was even more awkward than he had thought it would be.

Cas wandered in slowly, his hands in the pockets of his ridiculous trenchcoat, glancing around inquisitively, like Dean's apartment was some kind of great mystery. Dean tried to gently close the door behind him, but naturally it stuck and refused to close, forcing Dean to body-slam the door with a loud bang, causing Cas to spin towards him and stare wide-eyed at what had caused the commotion.

"Sorry, it's broken." Dean explained gruffly, stepping in. "So, um, do you want a drink? I've got beer, squash, coke, water, whatever."

Cas shuffled strangely before gingerly sitting down on the old couch, his trenchcoat bunching up underneath him. "I'll have a beer please, thank you."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You actually drink beer?"

Cas frowned. "I thought it was normal to drink beer in this kind of situation? From what my brother Gabriel has said, that is the general social convention."

Dean shrugged. "I suppose. I mean, it's what I normally drink, but then I'm not exactly the greatest role model for all of this." He paused while he grabbed a couple of beers. "You have a brother, then?"

"Yes. I come from a large family, but Gabriel is the only one who I am still in contact with. The rest of my family... is strict. We don't get along." Cas's voice was as emotionless as normal, but his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

Dean nodded, handing Cas his beer and pulling the top off his own. "That I can relate to. My mum died when I was four – house fire, something to do with faulty electrics or somethin' – and my dad, well, he was never the same. Half the time he was drunk, the other half he acted like an army general – do this, do that, don't do this, look after your brother, don't let me down. It was hell, to put it simply. When Sammy got his scholarship, Dad refused to let him go – he said he didn't want his son turnin' into some posh toff. So I basically packed our stuff, told dad we wanted to lead our own lives and if he wouldn't let us then he couldn't be part of them, and left. Got a college place near Sammy so I could look after him and, well, that's been it."

Cas was gazing at Dean with such intensity that Dean had to look away, embarrassed.

"My parents were very religious." Cas said suddenly, breaking the silence. "They had a plan for everyone in the family to follow – get these grades, go to this school, then train to become Vicars and join these churches. My brother Gabriel and I never wanted that life – Gabriel wasn't religious, which to my parents was just about the worst thing that could happen, and I was always more interested in art than anything else. Gabriel supported me, but as soon as he turned sixteen he left to open a sweet shop with a friend, and I was alone. My father was much harsher to me after that, as I had no-one to look after me. He would hit me sometimes, although I undoubtedly deserved it for refusing to follow the correct path."

"No, Cas, don't say that!" Dean reached out to put his hand on Cas's shoulder. "Trust me, Cas, from what I've seen you're an amazing person, and no-one deserves for their parents to hit them. That's horrible. Even my dad wasn't normally that bad – he saved that for the furniture."

Cas smiled weakly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "My teacher's at school were concerned that I was withdrawn, and they started asking questions. I refused to tell them anything because I was afraid of what my father would do. However, when I got new of this art scholarship I finally told the school everything, just in time to leave and come here. I don't know what happened next – I cut off all contact with my old life, just like Gabriel did. I do miss my family sometimes, but I understand when I've failed them and I'm not wanted."

To Dean's horror, Cas started to sob quietly. Setting down his half-drunk beer, Dean hesitated before wrapping his arms around Cas in a soothing hug, running his hand up and down Cas's back. They stayed like that for some time, Cas tucked into Dean's arms, before Dean realised that Cas had stopped crying and was just sitting there, slightly tense. Feeling a bit awkward, Dean moved back and disentangled himself, picking up his beer and taking another gulp.

"I'm sorry." Cas apologised in a low tone. "I haven't talked about my family with many people."

"It's fine, Cas." Dean smiled. "Let it all out, I'm here for you." He felt like such a pansy saying that, but Cas smiled gratefully, and Dean knew it was worth it just to see his eyes light up like that.

There was silence for a moment, before Dean noticed the takeout menu on the floor.

"Oh! We should probably order some food, shouldn't we? Sorry, I forgot about that."

Cas blinked. "Yes. I'll have a double cheeseburger please."

Dean nodded. "Coming right up." He picked his phone up and wandered into the kitchen area, dialling the number. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cas just sitting there, staring into space. Dean took the opportunity to rake his eyes over Cas's body. It was a pity that he was still wearing that trenchcoat, underneath it he probably looked even more amazing...

Dean allowed his thoughts to wander as he rattled off his order, fantasising slightly about Cas. It probably wasn't right to do it, especially not with him here, but he was just too cute to resist. Besides, the guy had basically just spilled his life story to him, so he must like Dean in some way, even if it was just as a friend. So that was progress.

Finishing the phone call, Dean chucked his phone to the side and walked back over to Cas, grabbing another couple of beers on his way.

"So," he commented, handing Cas one of the beers, "did you want to choose a movie, or just keep chatting?"

Cas looked deep in thought for a moment. "When you held me earlier it was nice," he said.

Dean's brain short-circuited. "Um, uh... what?"

"When I was crying and you held me, I liked it. We could do that again."

At this point, Dean had to physically restrain himself from leaning over and ravishing Cas. He was so innocent and clearly had no idea what he was doing to Dean.

"Um, ok." Dean fought to keep his voice normal and his body under control as he shifted over to put his arms around Cas.

Cas made a satisfied noise as he leaned into the embrace, his head on Dean's shoulder. His own arms moved hesitantly around Dean like he was unsure of what to do, resting lightly on his back. Dean resisted the urge to close his eyes and just breathe in Castiel's scent, instead fighting to remain in control of the situation so that he didn't do something he shouldn't.

"You're very hard for me to draw." Castiel suddenly said. "It's hard to capture someone so beautiful; it never seems to turn out right. Even the photographs don't show how incredible you look."

Dean screwed his eyes shut and tried to count to ten. He wasn't a chick, so being called beautiful wasn't a compliment he normally received, but coming from Cas it was extremely hot, and he really wasn't sure how to respond.

"Seriously, Cas, I'm not that good-looking." Dean replied. "I'm ordinary in every way. You on the other hand – you should see yourself, dude!"

"I do see myself." Cas responded, confused. "Every morning in the mirror, when I get out of the shower.

Cas in the shower. Dean's thoughts zeroed in on that one thing.

'Stop it!' Dean tried to tell himself. 'Stop that right now! This isn't appropriate, he isn't trying to flirt with you, he doesn't understand...'

Cas in the shower. Cas naked, with water running down his body...

It was almost a relief when the moment was broken by the arrival of the takeout.


	8. Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV

Castiel sighed as he looked over the photo edit he was doing of Dean, moving the mouse to highlight his eyes a little more. He couldn't stop thinking about yesterday – everything that had happened had seared itself into his brain and was refusing to leave. It was impossible to think about anything else, especially when that 'something else' still involved Dean. Sitting back in his chair, Castiel folded his arms and glanced around the small ICT suite he was in, giving himself a break to calm his thoughts.

It had, quite undoubtedly, been one of the best evenings of his life. When Castiel had first arrived, it had seemed somewhat awkward and stilted – Dean had obviously been uncomfortable about something and Castiel had had no idea how to remedy that. However, once conversation had started they had both felt very comfortable, and he had ended up telling Dean much more than he ever told anyone – and he had only known him for a few days! Nonetheless, once they had both spilled their family problems, Castiel had found Dean one of the most sympathetic people he had ever met – and then Dean had embraced him, and that had caused one of the most pleasurable sensations he had ever felt.

Castiel smiled as he remembered that feeling. It had stayed with him for the entire evening; even once the food arrived and Dean moved away to eat, Castiel had still felt that sense of happiness and the pull of something that he couldn't quite define yet. It was a feeling that he wanted to explore more, although he hadn't brought up that subject with Dean yet. He wasn't entirely sure what the conventions around arranging a second meeting were – he didn't have experience in these matters. Perhaps he should ask Gabriel about it. In fact, he should probably talk to Gabriel anyway – Castiel hadn't talked to his brother in weeks, and he normally emailed him more regularly than that. Not that Gabriel was likely to have noticed.

"Are you alright, Castiel?" A concerned noise sounded, and Castiel glanced around to see Jess standing over him with a look of concern on her tired face. She had been looking more and more worn down recently – he still had no idea of the reason why.

"Yes, thank you Miss." He replied, smiling, before turning back to his computer. He really ought to do some more work and stop getting so distracted – this was why he hadn't attempted to make friends before.

She smiled back at him, before looking at the edit he was doing. "What style are you trying to do here, then?" She queried.

"I'm trying to turn it into a more old-fashioned black and white photograph with a vintage style, editing in an appropriate background and changing his clothing. However, I need to work on maintaining the defining features from the original photograph – some of his facial features are becoming less noticeable due to the background, and it's difficult to fix. His eyes especially should stand out more."

Jess raised her eyebrows slightly and continued to look over the picture.

"You're very passionate about this, aren't you? You're always an excellent worker, but this level of enthusiasm is lovely to see."

"Dean makes excellent subject matter." Castiel replied, selecting a new filter tone and examining the effects on the image.

Jess looked like she wanted to say something, but instead she just smiled again before moving on.

Castiel shrugged to himself, not really understanding her reaction, before continuing to edit the photograph. There were only a few hours of school to go, and then he could go home and email Dean to arrange a second meeting. Once that was off his mind he should be able to work better, and ensure himself that becoming friends with Dean wasn't detrimental to his artwork.

/ / / / / / / /

When the bell finally rang to indicate the end of the day, Castiel saved his work and shut down the computer much more quickly than he usually would, joining the throng of students all attempting to get home as fast as possible. He got a few strange looks from his classmates, who knew him as the sort of person to stay behind and perfect his work, but no-one said anything – most people knew better than to try and talk to Castiel. He was just making his way downstairs when he noticed Dean standing at the bottom, looking at Castiel with a smile. A shocked expression making its way onto his face, he continued down until he reached Dean and stood there in confusion.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

Dean shrugged. "Sammy needed to see Jess – or rather, I forced him to go and talk to her because he's being an idiot about it. I figured driving him here was the best way to make him actually do it. Plus, I get the added bonus of seeing you."

"Why would Sam need to see Miss Moore? He doesn't go here." Castiel frowned, before his eyebrows rose as he realised what Dean had ended with. "You enjoy spending time with me?"

"Um, Sammy and Jess are dating. Well, I think they still are, they're havin' problems because Sammy can be a bit of an idiot – he's my brother and I love him, but when it comes to girls the guy's clueless. Honestly. And of course I enjoy spendin' time with you, Cas, you're awesome. Last night was great."

Was it just Castiel, or did Dean's breath hitch slightly when he said that?

"They're dating? Is that appropriate? While Miss Moore doesn't teach your brother, he is still a student while she is a teacher." Castiel paused. "I don't think I'm very 'awesome', as you put it, but last night was very enjoyable. We should do that again soon."

Dean laughed. "Of course it's appropriate – they're both sensible about it, I think, and if they're not I don't want to know. And you really want to do something with me again?"

"Yes." Castiel blinked – he had thought that his wording was perfectly clear.

Dean grinned. "Great! Let's see – are you free Friday? There's this great restaurant I know if you want to go there, the food is the best in the county and they give me a special deal because I'm friends with the manager."

Castiel thought for a moment. "That sounds nice. I do not know how I will get there though; I am not able to drive."

Dean's mouth practically fell open. "You don't know how to drive? Dude! I am so teaching you how to drive! You don't know what you're missin', man! It's amazing. Sometime I'm takin' you down to the garage at college and lettin' you drive one of the cars there. Maybe even baby if you're good enough."

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the idea of driving."

Dean looked Castiel directly in the eyes and put his hand on his shoulder. "Dude, trust me, when you get behind the wheel for the first time, you'll understand. You have to love it."

Castiel stared back into Dean's eyes, taking in all the emotion there. They were so beautiful, deep pools of green that you could get lost in if you looked for too long. Castiel felt like he could stare into them forever. It was only Dean's hand still on his shoulder that kept him grounded to reality, the pressure and heat feeling amazing. He found himself instinctively moving closer, seeking the warmth that Dean offered. The feeling from last night was back – that happiness and safety and the other, indescribable thing that lurked at the back, not obvious enough to be identified but still always there.

Dean's arm tensed, the hand on Castiel's shoulder clenching slightly, before Dean went to move it away. Not really thinking, Castiel moved his hand up and placed it on top of Dean's, keeping it on his shoulder. He didn't want it removed just yet. Dean's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, before flickering from Castiel's eyes to his lips. He felt the gaze like a physical touch, beckoning to him. Slowly, Castiel let his eyes drift close and moved in, following his instincts.

"Hey, Jerk!"

The voice sounded from overhead and as soon as he heard it Dean tensed, moving away from Castiel. Castiel frowned, stepping backwards as well and looking up to see a tall, gangly teenager that he didn't recognise standing at the top of the stairs, one arm around Miss Moore's waist. He couldn't help but feel a spike of irritation directed at this boy – presumably Dean's brother Sam – for interrupting whatever had been happening between himself and Dean. He wasn't entirely sure what had been about to happen, but the anticipation had felt good, and Castiel was sure the actual thing would have felt amazing.

Castiel glanced at Dean to see that his cheeks had gone slightly red with embarrassment, and he was determinedly not looking at Castiel.

"Bitch!" He called up, and his voice contained the same level of irritation that Castiel was feeling. "You two idiots made up then?"

Sam and Jess started to make their way down the stairs, Jess glancing at Sam with an expression which made Castiel feel a strange sense of longing – she seemed very taken with him, and Castiel couldn't help but want that sort of connection with someone himself.

"Shut up!" Sam called back, his voice light and happy.

The pair reached Dean and Castiel and stopped, Sam looking at Castiel with interest.

"So this is Cas?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I'm Castiel. You must be Dean's brother Sam." Castiel replied.

Sam smiled, his dimples deepening. "Yeah. My brother keeps talking about you."

Dean gave Sam a warning glare that went unseen by Castiel, who simply titled his head to one side in confusion.

"He talks about me?"

Sam laughed, glancing at Dean. "You're both oblivious idiots. Figures."

Castiel frowned, having absolutely no idea what Sam was talking about. He glanced over at Dean to see that his cheeks had gone even redder – presumably from embarrassment – but he had no idea what he was embarrassed about. Even more confused, he looked away and shuffled his feet awkwardly.

The silence was broken by Jess turning to Sam and putting her hands on his hips, before speaking.

"I'd better be off – I have some work to grade before I meet you again this evening. I'll see you later, yeah?"

Sam leaned in and gave Jess a quick kiss, smiling down at her. Castiel felt a slight pang as he did that – he wasn't sure why, but the gesture reminded him of something similar that had happened earlier, although he couldn't think what.

"You don't need to pick me up; I'm going back with Dean. Have fun grading." Sam kissed her again, before slowly releasing her hips and stepping back.

Jess waved, walking towards the door. "I will. Bye Dean, bye Castiel. Love you Sam!"

"Love you too!" Sam called, causing Dean to chuckle slightly and smile to himself.

"What?" Sam turned to Dean accusingly.

"Nothing." Dean stared down his younger brother.

Castiel felt like he was intruding on a family moment. "I should be going too. I have homework to complete. I will email you about Friday, Dean."

"Wait!" Dean called, as Sam whispered "Friday?" under his breath.

"Yes Dean?" Castiel replied, standing still.

"Um, I just..." Dean seemed slightly embarrassed. "I wanted to give a proper goodbye."

"Oh." Castiel paused. "Goodbye then, Dean."

"No, I mean..." Dean seemed to hesitate, almost like he was debating something, before muttering "Screw it."

Slowly, Dean placed his hands on Castiel's hips just like Sam had done to Jess earlier, looking him directly in the eyes, before his eyes fluttered closed and he moved in like before. Castiel stood very still, before he suddenly felt a pair of soft lips against his own.

Closing his eyes at the sensation, Castiel opened his mouth slightly and kissed back, enjoying the sensation. He had no idea why Dean was doing this, but it felt amazing, igniting something within him that he had never felt before. The sensation was even better than the one he had felt last night – and Castiel hadn't previously thought that was possible.

Sooner than Castiel wanted, Dean broke the kiss and stepped away, looking slightly flustered.

"So, um, I'll pick you up at maybe 6 on Friday then? If you email me your address?"

Castiel nodded, not entirely sure what to say, a smile dancing across his face.

"Well, um, I'll see you then." Dean awkwardly moved one hand behind his head to scratch his neck.

"Goodbye, Dean." Castiel's voice was lower and more gravelly than normal, and he noticed Dean swallow before he turned away to leave.

Behind him, Dean turned back to his brother and flushed red again at the triumphant, 'I knew it' expression on his face.


	9. Take Your Breath Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV

Dean cheerfully sang along to the Led Zeppelin blaring from the Impala's speakers, drumming his hands on the steering wheel and nodding his head in time with the music. He was in an exceptionally good mood – his latest mechanic job at college had earned him a commendation from the head of the garage, Sammy had scored a try on his first outing with the school rugby team, and he was going on a date with Cas. Life couldn't get much better. Dean briefly took his hands off the wheel to play air guitar, grinning as he did so, before hurriedly grabbing the wheel again to turn into Cas's apartment complex. A few people were standing around staring – presumably people didn't normally turn up here in 67 Chevy Impalas playing classic rock as loud as they could. Dean raised his eyebrows at them as he turned the music off and slid out of the car, locking his Baby behind him. No way was he risking someone round here taking it, even if they were very unlikely to.

Continuing to hum under his breath, Dean walked over to the smart looking building he had parked outside. It was in much better condition than his complex – it even had a freaking receptionist on the ground floor who was currently staring at him like he was a stain on her existence. That explained why Cas had never encountered an intercom before. Laughing to himself about how posh it all was, Dean pushed the heavy glass doors open and practically swaggered over to the desk.

"Hello sweetheart, I'm here to see Castiel Novak." He smiled, unable to resist turning on the charm a little. It was a hard to forget habit.

Her eyes narrowed as she peered at him, clearly disapproving. "Mr Novak does not normally receive visitors and he has not informed me that he is expecting one today."

"My apologies – it will not happen again." The gruff voice sounded from behind Dean and he turned, grinning, to see Cas standing here.

"Cas! Damn, dude, you look awesome!" Dean practically did a double take at the sight of Cas standing there, without his usual trenchcoat, in a smartly fitted suit (although the blue tie was backwards and clearly knotted incorrectly).

"Thank you, Dean, you also look very handsome."

Dean chuckled slightly at the formality. "You ready to go?"

"Yes." Cas turned to the receptionist. "I do not know what time I will be back. Can you leave the door unlocked for me, please?"

Her face was a complete picture of shock at the way Cas and Dean were interacting, and Dean had to stop himself from bursting out laughing at it. Instead, he simply smirked and turned his head away, instead choosing to look over Cas's outfit again. Seriously, why did the guy insist on wearing that trenchcoat? He looked so much better without it.

"Of course, Mr Novak. You be careful now – remember that you don't have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable."

Dean frowned at that. "No offence lady, but I would never do anything like that to Cas. So stop with the judgemental attitude."

Her lips pursed even thinner at his outburst, but she said nothing.

"Let's go, Dean." Cas requested, stepping forward as if to leave.

"Wait, Cas, just let me..." Dean stepped in front of Cas and reached out, pulling off his tie. He carefully unknotted it before setting it neatly around his neck and retying it in an elaborate knot, ensuring that it sat snugly around Cas's neck. He didn't miss the way that Cas's breath hitched slightly as Dean hands gently moved over his collarbone as he took them away, and Dean had to remind himself once again that he had to take things slow.

Cas's face was flushed as Dean stepped away, and he subconsciously licked his lips. Cas really had no idea just how much of a turn on his innocence could be – this was a serious exercise for Dean's self-control.

"Now we can go." Dean's voice had lowered slightly with his suppressed arousal, and Cas's pupils dilated slightly at the sound, before he nodded and followed Dean out.

"This is your car?" Cas asked when they reached Baby.

Dean grinned at him. "Yup. This is my baby. She's gorgeous, isn't she?"

Cas looked over the car, smiling. "She's very well looked after."

Dean looked at Cas with mock-hurt in his eyes. "Of course she is! I'm a trainee mechanic; I know how to take care of my car!"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't insinuating -"

"It's cool, dude!" Dean laughed. "I'm just messin' around."

Carefully, he unlocked the car, before opening the passenger door and holding it open for Cas. He felt a surge of pride as Cas gave him a warm, surprised smile at the gentlemanly action and slipped in, running his hands over the surprisingly clean interior. Baby was one thing that Dean would never allow to be dirty, unlike his apartment.

Dean started to hum again as he closed the door and walked around to the other side, slipping into the driver's seat.

"Alright, Cas, first things first. What do you think about classic rock?"

Cas tilted his head to one side. "As in the genre of music?"

Dean blinked. "Well, yeah, obviously."

"I don't listen to much music. The only music I own is classic, because it helps inspire my artwork."

Dean's eyes widened. "Wow, dude – you are missing out on so much! Trust me; this is going to blow your mind."

Grinning at Cas, Dean turned the key in the ignition, the engine flaring into life – and, at the same time, Led Zeppelin resuming its blasting from the speakers.

Cas's eyes nearly popped out of his head in shock, and Dean laughed as he put the car into reverse and turned around, driving out of the complex.

"What do you think?" He yelled over 'The Battle of Evermore'.

Cas leaned in. "If by 'blow my mind' you meant 'destroy my eardrums', then you are succeeding!" He shouted back.

Dean grinned. "You think this is loud? I take it you've never been to a concert?"

"If it's louder than this then I do not want to!"

Dean laughed again as he started to sing along, drumming his hands on the steering wheel and regularly turning to look at Cas. As the drive continued, Cas relaxed, and he seemed to be amused by Dean's actions. Dean found his good mood soaring even higher, and he resisted the urge to start fully headbanging, deciding not to freak Cas out too much the first time he was driving him anywhere.

Soon enough he was pulling into the parking lot at the Roadhouse, and he grinned as Cas gave an obvious expression of relief when he stopped Baby and turned the music off.

"Your music is too loud. If it had been slightly quieter, I might actually have enjoyed it." Cas had amusement shining in his eyes, and Dean felt a thrill that he was able to make Cas loosen up a bit.

"If you want, I'll give you a couple of mix-tapes of my favourite songs so you can listen to them at home. Who knows, you might find them inspiring too. Do you have a CD player or whatever?"

"I have an iPod."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Ugh, Sammy has one too. They're so overrated. But anyway, if you give it to me at some point I can stick some songs on there for you, if you want."

"That would be nice." Cas smiled at Dean, and he grinned back, before realising that they had been sitting in the car for several minutes now despite the fact that they had arrived.

"Anyway, shall we go in now? Ellen's set up a special table for us; I think she's thrilled that I've finally got a real date."

"You've never dated before either?" Cas seemed genuinely surprised, looking at Dean with raised eyebrows as he exited the car.

Dean rubbed his neck awkwardly, leaning against Baby as he locked her. "Well, I've been with girls, but I've never had a proper date, if you know what I mean. You're the first person I've been serious about."

"You mean you've always had one-night stands?" Cas asked.

"Well, yeah... you know what those are?" Dean was slightly surprised – Cas was a very innocent guy.

"Dean, I may not have much personal experience, but I'm not an idiot. My brother Gabriel has had many one-night stands; he enjoys talking about his latest ones whenever we meet up. He's not exactly one for commitment."

"He doesn't know what he's missin'." Dean replied without really thinking, then felt himself blush slightly under Cas's heavy gaze.

"Come on, let's go inside." He tried to ignore the weight of Cas's stare on his back, turning and walking into the Roadhouse feeling really awkward.

"Dean! It's great to see you; we've missed you for the past few weeks!" Ellen stepped out and embraced Dean, and he grinned as he hugged back.

"Sorry Ellen, I've just been busy with stuff." He stepped back and looked around to see Castiel staring slightly oddly. "Ellen, this is my b – this is Cas. Cas, this is Ellen – she's an old family friend."

"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance." Cas stepped forward and offered a hand to shake.

"Gosh, boy, where on Earth did you find him? It's lovely to meet you too." Ellen took Cas's hand warmly, clearly amused at his manners. "I set you two up a table at the back, in the private booth. Dean, I'm sure you know where it is. Let me know when you want to order drinks, yeah?"

Dean nodded gratefully, reaching for Cas's hand and grasping it in his own. Cas looked shocked for a moment, unsure of what was happening, but Dean gave a reassuring squeeze and he relaxed, following Dean into the booth at the back.

"So," Dean said, dropping his hand and sitting down opposite, "How's the art stuff goin'?"

Cas blinked as if surprised at the topic, before smiling slightly. "It's going fairly well, thank you. I have already completed several drawings and digitally edited pieces based on the original photographs, and I'm planning to start a painted canvas next week. I do not know yet what my main piece will be; I am experimenting with several different portrait mediums at the moment."

"That's cool. I'll be interested to see what you've done at the end." Dean meant it – he really was interested in seeing some of Cas's artwork, especially seeing as it was of him.

Cas fidgeted slightly. "Do not be surprised if I haven't captured all of your looks in my work – it is hard to do justice to how someone looks in a simple picture sometimes."

Dean grinned, leaning forward. "Are you sayin' that you think I'm hot?"

Cas looked confused. "No, Dean, I do not think that you are running a temperature. I think that you are physically attractive."

Dean had to restrain himself from laughing at the adorableness. "Cheers, Cas."

"You are very welcome."

There was a small pause, where Dean and Cas just stared at each other intently, before they were interrupted by the arrival of Ellen.

"Alright, boys, so what can I get you?"

"I'll have my usual, Ellen. Cas?" Dean glanced at Cas, who seemed a little confused by the menu.

"I'll have a Wadworth beer and a steak pie with chips. Please."

"Coming right up." Ellen winked at the pair before leaving.

"Pie? Good choice! Pie is awesome."

"I like pie. My brother Gabriel used to make pies at home before he left. They were normally desserts with too much sugar in, but it's still a nice memory."

Dean smiled at Cas's story. "My mum used to make pies too, before she died. I don't remember much about her, but I remember how we used to make pies together, and then we would eat them in the garden swing on the porch. She used to tease me when I got the filling all over me – but then, I was only three or four at the time."

Cas nodded. "Thank you." He said suddenly.

"For what?" Dean was baffled.

"For talking to me. For persuading me to spend time with you even though I thought work was more important. For wanting to be my friend even though I had no interest in friendship. For listening to all my problems and sharing your own with me so I felt less like a freak. Just thank you, Dean Winchester, for being in my life."

Dean stared at Cas for a moment, before leaning over and brushing his lips lightly over Cas's. "You don't need to thank me, Cas. I'm not exactly the greatest guy out there, I'm nowhere near what you deserve; I should be thanking you for puttin' up with me."

"Don't be absurd." Cas's voice had a tone of finality in it.

Dean was about to reply when Ellen appeared with drinks. "One coke for the designated driver and one beer for his date."

Dean chuckled. "Cheers Ellen. By the way, how's Jo doing?"

Ellen smiled down at Dean. "She's doing good. Says she misses me but I know she's lying – she couldn't wait to get away. I'm half expecting her not to come back at the end of term."

"Ahh, I'm sure she'll be back. Even if it's only for the food."

Ellen laughed. "True, that girl never could resist my cooking." She walked off and Dean grinned over at Cas, who looked slightly left out.

"Who, may I ask, is Jo?" There was a slight hint of something in this voice – was that jealousy?

"She's Ellen's only daughter, she's Sammy's age. She's away at school somewhere else at the moment, she didn't like the atmosphere at the school here – said it was too posh for her. I don't blame her to be honest."

Cas frowned some more. "You and this Jo get on well?"

Dean shrugged. "We get on ok – she always spent more time with Sammy as they were the same age, but I think she looked up to me for some reason. I haven't seen her in months. Why do you ask?"

"You talk about her as if you two are friendly." Cas's voice had taken on a colder tone.

Dean's eyes widened. "You're jealous! Oh, sorry Cas, I didn't mean... she's Ellen's daughter, I've gotta be nice to her, I grew up with her. But we've never been like that, ever. Ellen would kill me – besides, I've never been interested."

Cas looked slightly happier at that.

Dean hurriedly tried to think of a way to lighten the atmosphere. "So, um, what's Gabriel like? You've mentioned him a few times now."

Cas shrugged, clearly accepting the change in topic. "He's a great lover of sweets and sugar, hence he now works in a sweet shop, so he permanently seems to be on a sugar rush. Aside from that, he's a big trickster and loves to play practical jokes, to the extent where you have to double check everything he gives you. But he's a very caring brother underneath all that – in fact, that's his way of showing that he cares."

Dean smiled. "Sammy can be a bit of a trickster too – we've had a few prank wars, which, naturally, I always win."

Cas raised his eyebrows.

"Ok, which I sometimes win. But my ideas are always best!"

Cas laughed slightly. "I'm sure they are."

The food arrived then, and the rest of the meal was spent in silence, aside from occasional appreciative sounds at a particularly delicious bite of food.

Once they were both full (and Cas slightly tipsy from the beer) Dean paid the bill before helping Cas outside to the car, Cas leaning on his shoulder. He was very happy about how the date had gone, even if nothing much had happened – it had been a nice companionable experience, and Dean didn't normally feel that relaxed with anyone else.

Resisting the urge to turn the music back on, Dean helped Cas into the car before driving home almost within the speed limit, smiling as he watched Cas out of the corner of his eye. He seemed tired but pleasantly buzzed and happy, leaning against the side of the car with a blissful expression on his face. Dean chuckled when he turned a corner and Cas lurched slightly against the frame, the action seemingly bringing him back into reality.

"We're almost back, Cas." Dean reassured him, sensing he was ready to climb into bed and collapse.

"Oh." Cas actually seemed quite disappointed.

Dean smiled. "I had fun tonight, I hope you enjoyed yourself. It was nice doing that with you."

"Yes. I enjoyed it too. We should do that again sometime, but next time I am paying."

Dean laughed. "If you insist."

Silence fell over the car again, but it was a comfortable silence, and it wasn't long before Dean was pulling up outside the now empty and silent apartment complex. He followed Cas out of the car and stood slightly awkwardly outside the glass doors.

"Well, 'night Cas. I'll talk to you soon or something."

Cas paused, clearly debating something, before walking back over to Dean and giving him a brief, chaste kiss on the lips. Dean smiled into it, reaching a hand up to cup Cas's cheek and keeping it there even as Cas moved away slightly.

"Goodnight, Dean." Cas said, his voice as gravelly as ever.

Dean smiled up at him, allowing his hand to fall back to his side, and Cas walked away, stepping through the doors only looking back once.

Dean remained standing there for a few minutes before he went back to his baby and prepared to drive home. It had been an amazing evening, and he wanted to savour the memories before it had to end. He didn't know how Cas had managed to get him so thoroughly obsessed in just a couple of weeks or less, but it had happened. Somehow, without Dean even noticing, Cas had become one of the important things in his life. He wasn't about to let that go – not for anything.


	10. What Are You So Scared Of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV

Castiel wasn't sure why he felt nervous walking to the coffee shop where he was meeting Gabriel – he saw his brother every couple of months for a chat, so it wasn't like this was unusual. But this was the first time that Castiel had arranged to meet him since he started dating Dean – he presumed they were dating now – and he wasn't sure how Gabriel would react to that. Of course, Gabriel had been teasing Castiel for ages about getting together with a girl – but Dean wasn't a girl, and he had heard that being sexually attracted to men if you were male was despised by some, for whatever reason. Castiel didn't know if that opinion was held by his brother – Gabriel could certainly be very opinionated about certain things. It would be very difficult to proceed with Dean if Gabriel wasn't supporting. After all, all of Castiel's advice came from his brother – Gabriel was the one who had always enjoyed going on 'dates'.

Sighing, Castiel watched a pair of pigeons fight over a few crumbs at the side of the road. That would be an interesting image to paint – he carefully committed the scene to memory, deciding that when he got home he would attempt it, just to take a break from portrait painting. He was so absorbed with staring at the birds that he didn't notice someone come up behind him until they put their hands over his eyes.

Panicking at the sudden obstruction to his vision, Castiel lashed out to one side, and heard an 'oof!' as his fist made contact. The hands dropped from his face and Castiel whipped around to see Gabriel standing there, an expression halfway between amusement and pain on his face.

"Damn, Cassy-boy, I forgot how hard you could punch!" Gabriel exclaimed.

Castiel rolled his eyes. "There was no need for you to obstruct my vision in such a way. I panicked – for that I apologise. I did not know it was you."

Gabriel laughed, straightening up and trying to hide his wince. "It's nice to see you too. Come on; let's go inside before you start a riot in the streets."

Castiel shook his head at his brother's lame attempt at humour. Spending time with Gabriel could really try on his patience sometimes.

Once they were settled on a couch at the back, Gabriel ordering his typical ridiculously sweet coffee and chocolate brownies while Castiel stuck with tea, Gabriel began talking again.

"So, Cassy-boy, how's your art school thing going? Made any friends yet?"

Of course, that was the first thing that Gabriel would bring up.

"My work at the Academy is going well. We are working on our portrait portfolios at the moment, experimenting with different mediums to produce a variety of pieces of work of the same subject. As for friends – yes, I have made one, although I believe that he is closer to a boyfriend at this point."

Gabriel nearly spat out his coffee.

"Cassy-boy has a boyfriend? Well it's about time! I'm proud of you! Come on, give me all the juicy details – what's he like? Is he tall? Muscular? Hot?"

A few people were looking over strangely at this point – Gabriel wasn't exactly good at keeping his voice down.

"Um." Castiel felt a bit awkward, and felt his body language closing up under the scrutiny. "His name's Dean, he's studying mechanics at the college. He's 18, I think, and yes, he is very muscular. If by 'hot' you mean physically attractive, then yes, I am attracted to him. It would be hard not to be."

Gabriel's face was split into the biggest grin Castiel had ever seen.

"Man, Cassy-boy, how did you score him? I wasn't aware attractive, muscular mechanics normally went for socially awkward recluses. No offence."

"None taken." Castiel paused, thinking. "I don't know. I rejected his offer of friendship at first, but he was very persistent, and eventually I agreed to meet up with him. From there it just escalated, we got on very well. He's a very understanding person."

"Aww, well isn't that just heart-warming." Gabriel patted Castiel on the shoulder. "Congratulations! Have you kissed him yet?"

Castiel froze. "...Yes." He replied reluctantly. He felt like he was admitting to some kind of sin, although why, he didn't know.

"My Cassy-boy is growing up! Finally!" Gabriel was practically bouncing in his seat – Castiel edged away slightly so that a flailing arm didn't knock his half-full cup of tea over.

Gabriel's face suddenly took on a darker look. "He's not... using you, is he, Cassy? You know, you're comfortable with everything he's doing? I just want to look after you and make sure. You can tell me."

Castiel gave Gabriel a stern look. "Gabriel, I know that you are only watching out for my safety, but you can trust Dean. He's never done anything I'm not comfortable with, and I know he's holding back in order to do that, so I am very grateful to him. He would never try anything unorthodox."

"You think that sex is unorthodox?" Gabriel asked in a teasing voice.

Castiel blushed bright red and turned away, making Gabriel laugh.

"Sorry, Cassy-boy. Well as long as you and Dean-o are happy, I'm happy for you. When do I get to meet him?"

"It's Dean, and I don't know. I don't know if he is ready to meet my family yet."

Gabriel's face softened. "Well, I'd like to meet him, so just give me a call when you're both happy to do that." He chuckled again. "Wow, I never thought I'd see this day. You've proved me wrong, Cassy, I thought you'd be in your twenties by the time you finally plucked up the courage to date someone."

Castiel frowned but didn't respond.

"Anyway!" Gabriel picked up a brownie and bit into it. "I need to tell you about this amazing thing that happened at the sweet shop the other day. See, this lady came in and - "

Castiel tuned out Gabriel's voice, knowing that he would probably talk for at least ten minutes about whatever had happened to him in the past few months. It wasn't that he wasn't interested – Gabriel's stories were always interesting, if a little odd – he just needed some time to process his relief at Gabriel's support. Castiel was thrilled that Gabriel didn't seem to have a problem with his sexual orientation – he hadn't even mentioned it, almost like he'd always suspected. Perhaps he had – Castiel didn't know how you could tell whether someone was into men or women just by looking at them, but maybe if you had practise you could. If anyone was able to do something like that, it would certainly be Gabriel with his years of experience in sex.

Glancing around, Castiel suddenly noticed a man looking at him from the other side of the shop. He was quite heavily built and wearing mechanics overalls, and he looked around 17 or 18, with a small amount of scruff on his chin that just about passed for a beard. He was staring at Castiel with what could only be described as loathing, and when he noticed Castiel staring back he mouthed the word 'faggot' with a menacing expression. Not really understand what was going on, but disliking the man instantly, Castiel shuddered and turned away, noticing that Gabriel now wore a worried expression.

"Are you alright, Cassy-boy? You zoned out there for a second."

Castiel shrugged. "I'm fine, Gabriel. It is nothing." He wasn't fine, but he didn't want Gabriel to worry about him. He was an adult – he could look after himself.

Gabriel nodded, but the look of concern stayed on his face, and he held Castiel's gaze for a few seconds contemplating before turning back to his nearly-finished plate of brownies.

I'm afraid I've got to dash after this." Gabriel apologised after a few seconds. "I've got a date with Kali at five, I need to go back and get ready."

"Who is Kali?" Castiel asked, only half-interested in the answer.

Gabriel actually flushed a little. "She's a girl I met at a bar a few nights ago. Seriously feisty – downright dangerous when she's angry, in fact – but seriously hot as well. I asked for her number and she practically accosted me. But she agreed that I could take her out on a proper date if I wanted to get to know her, so here we are."

Castiel raised his eyebrows. "You mean you might actually keep her around for long enough to get to know her?"

Gabriel poked his tongue out at Castiel. "Oi! I'm not that bad! But yes – if there was any woman who could make me settle down a bit, it would be her. There's just something about her spark – I don't know. We'll see how tonight goes."

Castiel smiled. "I am glad that you found someone like that, Gabriel."

He smiled. "Me too."

A few minutes later, having finished their drinks and food, Castiel and Gabriel stepped out of the shop and Gabriel pulled Castiel in for a hug.

"It was good to see you little bro! We should do that again soon – maybe if you introduce me to Dean-o I can introduce you to Kali? Email me!" With an excited wave, Gabriel walked off, leaving Castiel shaking his head slightly at his brother's enthusiasm. It must be all the sugar.

A smile on his face, Castiel walked around the corner to head back to his apartment and almost walked right into someone. He looked up to apologise, but the words died on his lips as he noticed the intimidating figure of the man from the coffee shop looming over him. His body tensed and he subconsciously moved into a fighting stance, but the man simply leered unpleasantly down at him.

"So you're the reason that Dean's stopped comin' out with me to pick up chicks, huh?" He asked scathingly.

Castiel remained silent, trying not to aggravate him. Presumably this guy knew Dean somehow – he vaguely remembered Dean mentioning someone who he used to spend time with once, but he couldn't recall the name.

He guy stepped back and spat on the ground in front of Castiel's feet. "I don't know what kind of faggot nonsense you're tryin' to infect Dean with, but know this – that guy's one of the straightest people I know, so he's only usin' you for somethin'. If you know what's good for you, stay away from him. He'll only hurt you in the end – and if he doesn't, I will. Consider that a promise."

The man wheeled around and walked off, his face a mask of anger. Castiel tried to force himself to relax. In a way, it would have been easier if the guy had just tried to attack him – Castiel knew how to physically defend himself, he had taken martial arts for years before coming here, but he had no idea how to deal with verbal abuse. He couldn't help but go over what the man had said. Was Dean really just using him? Was he just trying to embarrass Castiel in a way that he hadn't noticed? He liked to think that that wasn't the case, but a shade of doubt was beginning to creep in – plenty of people had mentioned that now, so perhaps the warning was just. He didn't trust this man, but he was beginning to doubt his trust in Dean too.

Shaking slightly, Castiel walked away, going over his best options of what to do now. He couldn't exactly just talk to Dean about it, and he couldn't talk to Gabriel because he was going out tonight. That was just about everyone that Castiel talked to. He could just ignore what had happened – but then what would he do about Dean? Did he want to go out with him again knowing that he might just be being used? Castiel could feel a sinking feeling in his heart. This was why he didn't have friends. Forming attachments only lead to getting hurt – he had learnt that with his family. He should never have made that mistake again.

Behind him, Benny smiled a triumphant smile. His plan had worked. The weird kid was suitably shaken up, and shouldn't be bothering Dean again. He would have his friend back in no time.


	11. Breaking Their Hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV

Dean frowned as he scrubbed at the dirty car with a soapy sponge, his tongue poking through his teeth in concentration. This was the one thing he hated about training to be a mechanic – all cars were expected to be returned to their owners in immaculate condition, even if they had arrived absolutely covered in mud and other unmentionable things. Of course, today the car wash had to be broken, so he was being forced to clean the dirtiest 4x4 he had ever encountered by hand – and it was taking hours. His hands felt disgusting and his overalls were soaked through, but the car was still only half clean, and he couldn't stop until it was done. Sighing, Dean used one soapy wrist to wipe at the sweat on his forehead, before returning to vigorously scrubbing the car door.

At least tonight he had seeing Cas to look forward to. Dean had asked Cas if he wanted to go round to his again for a couple of hours, seeing as they hadn't been able to meet up recently, and Cas had agreed – although Dean had noticed he didn't seem as enthusiastic as last time. He hoped that it was just that Cas was feeling overworked from school, and not that he was having doubts – this was the first time that Dean had ever felt serious about someone, and he was really starting to feel strong things for Cas. Possibly even the big L word.

Feeling slightly better at the thought of Cas, Dean moved on to another part of the car, scrubbing determinedly at a particularly muddy patch. He had almost got the area back to its original red shade when he felt eyes on him and paused to glance round. Behind him, where he was working on his own allotted car, Benny was staring at Dean with an unfathomable expression. When he noticed Dean looking, he smiled and glanced away, but the smile seemed somewhat forced and he looked as though he was thinking about something.

Dean's eyebrows knotted in confusion. For the past couple of days, Benny had been looking at Dean differently, almost like he wanted to say something to him but was refraining from doing so. Dean knew that he himself had been acting a little differently recently, refusing to go out to bars and pick up girls so that he could stay home and email Cas, but that still didn't explain all of Benny's behaviour. He was almost acting like Dean had contracted some kind of disease that he was worried about mentioning, but at the same time meant he didn't want to get too close. It was very strange. Still, Dean wasn't too worried – he and Benny had never really been that close, so if they stopped talking entirely it was hardly the end of the world.

Eventually, the car looked clean so Dean stepped back and grabbed the hose, washing the soap off as quickly as he could whilst checking the car for any last specks of dirt. The problem with working in an area full of rich people was that they had extremely high standards and were really good at complaining if those standards weren't met. Dean didn't want to have to stay here any longer than necessary, which meant his work had to be perfect so he didn't need to stay behind to be yelled at by a customer.

Finally finishing, Dean chucked the hose to one side and wiped his soapy hands on his overalls, gathering his things together to leave. He nodded at his college instructor over in the corner to signal that he was finished, before walking to the door. He was just about to exit the garage when he was stopped by Benny.

"So, I don't suppose you'll be comin' to the bar today?" Benny asked, a strange edge to his voice.

Dean frowned. "Sorry mate, I'm busy. Maybe you should ask someone else."

Benny chuckled darkly. "Nah, I'm sure you'll start joining me again before too long." He clapped Dean on the shoulder.

Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. What was Benny suggesting? Before he could ask, Benny wandered off and Dean was left alone to contemplate the issue.

Shrugging it off, Dean walked out of the garage and crossed the street to head home. He needed to shower and tidy his apartment up a bit before Cas arrived. Starting to hum to himself, Dean allowed his thoughts to wander as he jogged home, his toolbox rattling against his side.

Once he got into his apartment, Dean shrugged off his clothes and practically leapt into the shower, sighing in happiness as the warm water ran down his back. He took his time washing all the mud off his body, ensuring that every bit of grime was gone from under his fingernails, before turning the shower off and just standing there for a few seconds, relaxing. Dean didn't often get chances to just chill out, so it was nice to have one now.

Remembering that he still needed to tidy up before Cas arrived, Dean sighed and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel loosely around his waist before wandering out and starting to gather things together. He shoved his toolbox and dirty overalls into his bedroom before straightening the sofa (he didn't want to think about what Sammy and Jess had done to knock it out of place) and kicking a couple of empty beer bottles under it. He could dispose of them properly later. He had just stacked his mechanic textbooks in a pile in the corner when he heard the intercom buzz, and distractedly wandered over and pressed the button.

"Yo, who is it?"

"Um, hello. It's Castiel."

Dean blinked. "Oh! Cas. Right. Of course. Come on up."

The time had passed much quicker than he expected – perhaps he had spent more time then he thought in the shower. Shaking his head to clear it, Dean waited by the door until a knock indicated that Cas had arrived.

"Hey, Cas!" He greeted, opening the door wide and grinning.

"Hello..." Cas's reply died on his lips as he noticed what Dean was wearing.

Dean followed Cas's eyes and suddenly realised that he was still sopping wet, with a towel tied loosely around his hips and nothing else. Oops.

"Oh god, sorry, I lost track of time... come in, I'll just go and... put some clothes on..."

Blushing awkwardly, Dean darted over to his bedroom door and opened it, knocking over his stack of books in the process, before shutting it again and leaning against the wall, breathing deeply. Normally he wouldn't feel at all awkward about being caught like this, but this was Cas – innocent Cas who had probably never seen a guy in just a towel before. Besides, Dean was slightly worried about what Cas would think of his nearly-naked figure – he was much more insecure than he let on, and he really wanted Cas to like his body. He hoped that wasn't shallow of him. Mind still racing, Dean pulled off the towel and quickly dried himself off, before wandering over to the wardrobe and glancing at his piles of clothes. Not having any time to select an outfit, he grabbed a random t-shirt – a Metallica concert one – and a plaid shirt, before pulling on a random pair of boxers and a tatty, frayed pair of jeans. Satisfied, he ran his hands though his hair to smooth it down before wandering back out. Cas was sitting awkwardly on the sofa, not looking at Dean, clearly deep in thought.

"Sorry about that." Dean apologised again, causing Cas to look up.

"It is fine."

Was it just Dean or was Cas's voice gruffer than normal?

"Right, so... how was meeting Gabriel then?"

Cas visibly tensed, and Dean frowned. He had thought Cas and his brother had a good relationship.

"It went well. Gabriel has a new girlfriend who he is more serious about."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Well, good for him, it's nice that he's found someone." He paused. "Did you tell him about... well, us?"

Cas twiddled his thumbs. "Yes." He reluctantly replied.

Dean grinned, sliding in next to him on the sofa. "Great! So is he supportive?"

Perhaps that was what the problem was – maybe Gabriel was homophobic, or didn't like the sound of Dean.

Cas blinked as though insulted. "Of course. My brother cares deeply for my well-being, he is always supportive of things that make me happy."

"I make you happy, eh?" Dean asked in a teasing tone. Secretly his heart soared at the admission and he tried to avoid breaking out into a cheesy grin.

Cas looked awkward again. "Yes Dean, you make me very happy."

At that Dean did grin. "Aww Cas. You make me very happy too." He reached over and cupped Cas's face, before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. He didn't miss the way Cas instinctively followed him as he pulled away, almost like he was trying to prolong the moment.

They stared into each other's eyes for few seconds longer, before Dean broke away and stood up again. "Right, did you want me to order the same stuff as last time?"

Cas seemed more relaxed now, and he actually smiled. "Yes, that would be nice, thank you."

Dean nodded and grabbed his phone to order, keeping his eyes on Cas the whole time. It was amazing how soothing his presence could be – he was so lucky to have found him. Thank god that Jess forced him to model that day.

Once he had ordered the food, Dean grabbed a couple of beers and made his way back over to the sofa, sitting down and putting one arm around Cas after handing him a beer.

Cas flinched a little at the unexpected contact, then relaxed again and leant into Dean, closing his eyes. For a few minutes they just sat there, Dean taking periodic swings from his beer and enjoying the feel of Cas up against him. These were the moments that he had never had with any of his one-night stands – moments when you could just sit and enjoy someone else's company. It was one of the nicest feelings in the world, in Dean's opinion.

"We should do the proper family introduction thing at some point." Dean commented, swirling his beer around in the bottle. "I mean, you've already seen Sammy, but we should do a proper sit-down meal or somethin'. You could invite Gabriel as well, and maybe he can bring his girlfriend and Sammy can bring Jess."

Cas looked up in surprise. "You want to do that?"

Dean's eyes widened. "Of course I do, Cas! You mean a lot to me, I want to show everyone that we're serious."

Cas's face broke into an enormous smile, then he lurched forward and gave Dean a sloppy, hurried kiss.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

Dean chuckled, bemused but happy. "Come on Cas, you should know how important you are to me. I've never felt like this with anyone else before."

Cas looked deep in thought.

"Are you alright?"

Cas looked up at Dean. "Yes. There was just... an incident, after I met Gabriel. It gave me doubts. I was wrong to doubt you, I know that now."

Dean was instantly concerned. "An incident? What kind of incident? Are you ok? Were you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry Dean, it was nothing of import. There was just a man making false statements about you."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"I believe he was a friend of yours."

"What?" Dean was confused. "I don't really have any other friends, I never made any, I spent all my time carin' for Sammy." Suddenly, everything became clear. "Oh, of course, damn it... Benny. That's why he's been actin' so weird around me the past couple of days."

Cas didn't respond, but Dean was starting to get angry.

"That idiot, I am going to kill him next time I see him... how dare he do anything to you? It's none of his business who I choose to date."

Cas put a soothing hand on Dean's arm. "Dean, it is fine. He did not injure me in any way; you do not need to attack him."

"No, maybe not, but I do need to teach him not to mess with what is mine."

"Yours?" Cas looked confused.

Dean felt awkward again. "Oh, sorry, I just meant..."

"I am not a possession, Dean." Cas reprimanded.

Only Cas would take that so literally. Dean fought the urge to smile.

"I know, Cas. It's a figure of speech."

Cas looked even more confused, and Dean tried to control himself before bursting out laughing. Cas could be so adorable with his social ineptitude and innocence.

Not that Dean would have it any other way.


	12. Careful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV

Castiel supposed that he should have expected some curiosity – after all, Miss Moore had seen him and Dean together at the school – but he was still taken by surprise when she pulled him aside after a lesson saying that she needed to talk to him.

He had just finished his montage of vintage-style black and white photographs and placed it in the side room for grading, when she quite literally appeared out of nowhere behind him with a strange expression on her face.

"Castiel, could you come with me for a few minutes? We need to talk."

Instantly, Castiel's mind had gone into overdrive. What could he have done wrong? It must be the paint he had borrowed from the cupboard without asking, someone had probably seen him take it and now he was being arrested for stealing. Or it could be that the drawings he had submitted of Dean weren't a high enough standard and he had to do them again. Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, Castiel had quietly followed Miss Moore into the rarely-used office down the corridor from the classroom and sat down, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of his trenchcoat.

"There's no need to be nervous, you're not in trouble." Miss Moore tried to reassure Castiel, sitting behind the desk and leaning forward, her elbows propped up. "I'm just wondering what your relationship is with Dean Winchester."

Castiel's mouth fell open in shock, before he quickly closed it and frowned, crossing his legs and tilting his head to one side.

"I don't understand." He finally replied, confusion evident from his tone of voice.

Miss Moore smiled and sat back. "Castiel, you've been in my class for several months, and not once have I ever seen you fully interact with any of your peers. While I am very happy that you finally seem to have found someone to talk to, I'm concerned that Dean isn't the right sort of friend for you."

Castiel's frown deepened and he sat back. "Several people have accused Dean of not being a suitable boyfriend. I do not believe that any of them truly know him. Dean Winchester is a wonderful man, and he is very good to me."

"I'm sorry." Miss Moore looked slightly incredulous. "Did you say boyfriend?"

"That is the term, is it not, for a male who you are romantically attached to?"

Miss Moore's eyes widened, and her hands twitched, almost like she wanted to record this revelation. "Well. I knew the two of you were friends, but I didn't think that you had a ... romantic attachment, as you put it."

"Yes. I believe we do." Castiel had gone back to his usual emotionless tone of voice, combined with a slightly confused expression that asked 'why does it matter?'.

Miss Moore smiled falsely. "I see. So how did you and Dean become involved?"

"Miss Moore, I do not want to appear rude, but I do not see how that is any of your business." Castiel was still confused.

Miss Moore looked down briefly, before meeting Castiel's gaze. "Please, call me Jess. You are now dating the brother of my boyfriend... the OLDER brother, as strange as that sounds. I know Dean Winchester very well, better than most others, and I am just concerned that he's taking advantage. That's all. I worry about my students, Castiel."

"You are a teacher dating a student from another school, and you are worried about the appropriateness of one of your students dating another student?"

Miss Moore actually blushed. "Yes, well..."

"Miss Moore, I will not pry into your relationship with Sam Winchester if you do not pry into mine with Dean. I believe that is the best way to proceed."

She sighed. "Yes. I am sorry, I was just concerned. Dean has a bit of a reputation; I don't want you to end up adding to it."

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "You mean his history of fornication with women? I am not a woman; I fail to see how I could in any way affect that."

Miss Moore choked at Castiel's phrasing. "Oh, naturally... I meant that I hope he's not just using you. I hope you're not just another, trickier conquest."

"Dean and I have had this discussion. I do not believe your concerns are relevant."

Miss Moore didn't reply, and Castiel stood up, walking to the door. "May I leave? Dean wishes to teach me how to drive today, and I would rather not be late."

She nodded. "Of course. Oh, and Castiel? If we are going to be dating brothers, I imagine we will be seeing each other outside of school. So please learn to call me Jess."

Castiel paused, as if he was contemplating her request, before silently walking out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Castiel had nearly arrived at the garage where Dean both studied and worked. He didn't normally come into the college area of town, and he was starting to remember why – he was getting some very strange looks from rough-looking men and women, and while he disliked stereotyping them he had to admit they made him feel unsafe. He also couldn't help but worry about running into that man, Benny, again – he didn't particularly want another confrontation, especially when Dean was around – Dean struck him as the sort of person who was likely to be reckless when it came to fights.

Looking around, Castiel eventually noticed the garage tucked behind a large, ugly college building. The college was a horrific work of architecture – Castiel expected that most of his fellow students at the Academy could have designed nicer looking buildings. Everything was very boring and grey – at least the two cars parked outside the garage added a little colour to the scene.

Smiling at the thought of seeing Dean, Castiel crossed the road and stood outside the garage, peering in. There were several men there, tinkering with various aspects of cars and occasionally shouting over the din of machinery. The entire place stank of oil and various other chemicals, and Castiel wrinkled his nose. This was even worse than the sculpting and modelling area at the Academy, and he hadn't thought that that was possible.

Suddenly, one of the guys seemed to notice Castiel standing there and wandered over, looking confused. He was several inches taller than Castiel's six feet, and he couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated, especially seeing the muscles and tattoos covering the guy's arms.

"Can I help you?" He asked, looking down at Castiel.

"Um... I'm here to see Dean Winchester." Castiel shouted, trying to make himself heard over the noise.

"He's not allowed to leave until he's finished the car he's working on. Just wait here and don't touch anything." The guy replied loudly, before turning away and resuming his previous job pumping air into a car's tyres.

Castiel felt very awkward, and the noise was giving him a headache, but he stood stock still looking around the garage to try and find Dean.

Before he spotted him though, he noticed someone else and a cold hand seemed to settle against his heart. Benny. He was on the other side of the garage, examining a very old, shiny looking red car with one hand scratching his head. He was dressed in absolutely filthy overalls, even more dirty than anyone else Castiel could see in the place. As Castiel stared, he stepped back away from the car and picked up a rag and a toolbox lying on the ground, before starting to walk towards where Castiel was.

Frozen to the spot, Castiel simply watched while Benny walked over, pausing to exchange a few words with the guy who had spoken to Castiel earlier, before wandering towards the exit. As he neared Castiel, he suddenly seemed to realise that he was there and a look of complete scorn came over his face.

"So, faggot, I see that you didn't listen to me then," he spat as he stopped in front of Castiel.

"I see that you haven't got any politer or less deluded since we last met." Castiel replied.

Benny's face scrunched up. "Are you insultin' me?"

"Yes." Castiel responded, tilting his head to one side.

An expression of pure anger appeared on Benny's face. "You are gonna pay for that, faggot-boy!"

He stepped forward, fists raised, and Castiel instinctively moved to one side and sharply tapped him on the temple. Benny's eyes widened, his face bulging, and then he dropped to the floor unconscious.

Castiel looked down at the slumped body on the floor, then stepped back, looking up to see Dean standing there with an expression halfway between concern and pride on his face.

"Dude – that was awesome!" He exclaimed.

Castiel smiled slightly, bemused. "Thank you. He shouldn't have any permanent injuries, although he may wake up with a slight concussion."

Dean stepped forward and gave Castiel a hug, surprising him, but after a moment he returned it, leaning his head on Dean's shoulder.

"Are you alright, though?" Dean asked, mumbling into Cas's ear. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have asked you to come down knowing he'd be here."

"I'm fine." Castiel squeezed Dean's arm to reassure him.

A loud cough behind them made Castiel jump and spring away from Dean, and he looked up, embarrassed, seeing the guy who he had initially spoken to staring at them.

"Mr Winchester, while your private life is none of my business, I would ask that you and your boyfriend keep any of your issues away from my garage. Am I clear?"

Dean blushed, looking down. "Yes boss. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

The boss then smiled gruffly. "However, I don't condone homophobia so don't worry, I'll be having strict words with this young man here. You two can go and have a nice evening now; I'll ensure he doesn't press charges. Don't forget to use protection!"

At that, Dean went positively crimson and started to drag Castiel away. Confused, Castiel simply followed him to an area near the back of the garage, trying to work out what had Dean so flustered.

"What did he mean 'use protection'? Protection from what?"

Dean coughed, not meeting Cas's eyes. "It's nothing Cas, don't worry about it. Now just let me grab my stuff and we can go out the back. We're not drivin' baby today, no offence but I don't want to risk her crashin'. We're borrowin' another car."

Castiel nodded, before looking down and noticing the marks on his trenchcoat from where Dean had hugged him in mucky overalls. He frowned.

"You're covered in oil." He complained.

Dean laughed, wiping a messy hand across Castiel's cheek. "Dude, I'm a trainee mechanic. You'd best get used to it! It's not that bad."

Castiel frowned, wiping his cheek. "I am very fond of this coat. I do not wish it to be stained by oil."

Dean shrugged, picking up his toolbox and looking Castiel up and down. "It's not that badly stained. I've got some stuff at home that's good at getting out oil stains; I can wash it for you if you want. It'll be good as new."

Castiel smiled. "Thank you. That would be nice."

Dean smiled back, and they stood like that for a while before Dean cleared his throat and turned away.

"So, we'd better get started. It'll be dark in a few hours; you should probably have some daytime experience before you try drivin' in the dark."

Castiel nodded, feeling slightly nervous. He followed Dean outside, relieved at the sudden quietness that befell his ears. He hadn't realised how badly they were ringing until he got away from all the noise.

Dean was standing beside an old-looking light blue car, a little smaller than his normal car but similarly shaped. Castiel presumed that he was supposed to be impressed, but it just looked like a car to him.

"Right, this girl isn't Baby, but she still needs respect, yeah? Just get in the driver's seat and I'll show you what to do from there."

Castiel awkwardly moved around the car and opened the heavy door, sitting down on the worn seat and looking over at Dean. Dean smiled encouragingly.

"Great! Now, if you look down there – that pedal's the accelerator, yeah? You got that? That one there's the brake, which means the other one's the clutch. You need that to change gears."

"I know the basic theory of driving, Dean, I have simply never done it."

Dean smiled. "Well, in that case, let's give it a go! Just turn the key and try going down that dirt track up ahead – it's nice and wide, so you've got some space if you can't go in a straight line at first – woah! Dude!"

Castiel hunched over the steering wheel as the car lurched forward, his foot firmly down on the accelerator.

"Slow down, Cas, this isn't a race! You're not supposed to go this fast in first gear!"

Cas fumbled and hit the brake, and car skidding slightly sideways and screeching to a stop in a whirl of dust.

There was a pause, and then Dean burst out laughing.

"I don't see what is so amusing." Castiel commented, heart still racing.

Dean continued to laugh. "You're so intense when you're driving! That wasn't bad actually – it could have been a lot worse! It's not like I'm a proper teacher."

Castiel frowned. "I am not sure that I wish to continue doing this."

Dean stopped laughing and leant over, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"You're doing great, trust me. Once you've had a bit more practice you'll love it."

Castiel didn't look convinced, so Dean leant over and gave him a kiss. Castiel sighed, leaning in and kissing back, relaxing into the sensation.

After a few moments, Dean pulled back and smiled, adoration shining in his eyes.

"So, shall we try that again?"


	13. Circles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV

Dean nervously brushed his hands down over his shirt, trying to smooth out all the stubborn creases and make it look slightly less like he had just picked it up off the floor of his closet. Today was the day that he and Cas had arranged to meet each other's families (aka their siblings), and Dean was really worried. What if this Gabriel didn't like him? It was obvious that Cas and his brother were close, and Dean wasn't exactly the ideal boyfriend for a super-talented but socially-inept eighteen year old – and if Gabriel had a problem with that, Dean doubted that he would be able to stay with Cas. Even though they hadn't been together that long, the possibility of that was terrifying.

Deciding that his shirt was a lost cause, Dean stepped backwards and started to hunt around for a pair of smart shoes. Glancing around his mess of a bedroom, he eventually located a pair that only looked slightly scuffed and grinned triumphantly, pulling them on and quickly tying the laces. Grabbing his wallet and car keys from where they had been abandoned on his bed, he looked at his reflection one last time before walking out of the room.

The drive to pick up Cas took longer than it should have due to traffic, and Dean found his nerves increasing as he drove. Trying his hardest not to think about all the ways in which this could go wrong, Dean turned up his speakers until his ears were hurting and the car was vibrating with AC/DC and began to drum his fingers to the rhythm of the music. When he finally pulled into the car park outside Cas's apartment block, Dean took a few moments to try and collect himself before getting out and walking over to the heavy glass doors that were becoming more familiar.

It was the same receptionist as before, and Dean had to suppress a laugh at the way her entire face caved into a frown at the sight of Dean.

"Mr. Novak told me to send you directly up." Her tone of voice made it quite clear exactly what she thought of this request.

Dean smirked at her, leaning forwards slightly and resting his arms on the desk. "Well then, would you mind telling me what his apartment number is?"

The receptionist sat up straighter. "You know, I don't believe you are acting with the correct attitude for someone in a relationship with a man like Mr. Novak. If you don't start behaving appropriately I am perfectly within my rights to refuse you access."

Dean's eyebrows shot up, and he couldn't help but think that this lady was a seriously invasive bitch.

"Look, lady, my relationship with Cas is none of your business. I've had enough of people tryin' to interfere. Just give me his flat number and I don't need to bother you again."

For a moment it looked like she wasn't going to give it to him, but then she sat back and picked up her pen.

"Twelve. I will inform Mr. Novak you have arrived."

Relieved, Dean attempted to smile slightly gratefully at her before turning and heading towards and sculpted staircase. As he walked, his nerves started to return, and he rolled his eyes at himself.

"Get it together, Winchester." He muttered.

Soon enough, he had arrived outside the smartly painted door of number twelve. The shining brass number and curved doorknocker only served to remind him how Cas was at a much higher place in society than Dean. It was quite intimidating, and Dean really started to feel that he didn't belong here, in such a classy area. It didn't even occur to Dean that Cas was just as out of place in high-class society as he was – he just felt incredibly uncomfortable and unworthy.

Breathing in deeply, Dean reached up with one slightly sweaty, calloused hand and rapped a few times with the doorknocker. He couldn't hear any sounds from inside, so he just stood there awkwardly, picking at the seams of his jacket. The entire block was virtually silent, which was strange for Dean – his own block was always full of music and shouting and general life. He might live in a shady area, but it almost seemed more attractive than a nicer place that was so still it was almost like a ghost town.

Finally, the door rattled and there was the sound of a chain being clipped back. Dean smiled. Of course Cas was the sort of person to be security-conscious enough that he actually used the chain on his door.

The door swung open, and Dean took a moment to allow his eyes to brush over the awkward figure of Cas in the doorway. His normally rumpled hair had been combed back – Dean kind of missed the sex-hair look – and he was wearing a smart suit that looked like it had been pressed. Typical Cas, dressing up for the occasion. Dean felt just a little underdressed.

"Wow, Cas, you look awesome!"

Cas gave a very small smile. "Thank-you, Dean. You look as handsome as always."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Don't lie, Cas. I couldn't look 'handsome' if I tried. But whatever. Are you nearly ready to go?"

Cas looked like he wanted to dispute Dean's statement, but he refrained. "Almost. If you'd like to step in, I won't be a moment. I just need to finish sorting some things out."

Dean nodded. "Sure. We've got plenty of time."

Cas stepped back, holding the door open, and Dean smiled at him again before stepping in.

The place was so clean. Dean was standing in a sitting area – presumably this flat had a similar layout to his own – but it looked like it was a sitting room at a showroom, not one that was being lived in. A smart, cream leather couch was set against one immaculately painted wall, with a dark wooden coffee table set in front of it on a perfectly clean fluffy cream rug. The coffee table had only two things on it, an electronic chessboard and a smart black sketchbook, and both were placed carefully, as though they were just part of the decor of the room. The walls were adorned with a couple of paintings, one an abstract landscape and the other an absolutely beautiful rendering of an angel, yet even with those subtle touches that spoke of Cas, the place seemed remarkably impersonal.

Dean remained standing by the doorway, scared that his probably mucky shoes would make a mark on the clean carpet.

"You can sit down." Cas commented from where he was standing in the kitchen area adjacent to the sitting room. Dean wasn't even going to get into how strangely organised that kitchen was. Cas didn't even have any dirty dishes or random mugs lying around, for goodness sake...

"It's ok. I wouldn't want to mess up your flat." Dean decided honesty was best here. "I don't even know how you keep it so clean..."

"I like my things to be ordered. Besides, I do not spend very much time in any area of this flat except my bedroom, as that is where most of my art equipment is located. I have no reason to spend time in a sitting room when I have a perfectly comfortable bed to sit on, and the only reason I would use this kitchen is if I actually knew how to cook, which I do not."

"You don't know how to cook?" Dean was surprised – he would have thought that Cas was the sort of person who would prefer home-cooked meals.

"I have never had occasion to learn." Cas seemed entirely unperturbed by his lack of cooking skills.

"I could teach you, if you wanted? I mean, I'm not great, I tend to get takeout, but I can cook some mean stuff if I try."

Cas looked up and tilted his head to one side. "Is it likely to go as badly as your attempts to teach me to drive are?"

Dean burst out laughing, leaning back against the door. "They're not goin' that badly! I'll admit you need to work on what speed is appropriate in certain situations, but you're much better than you used to be. You didn't stall once during our last 'lesson'!"

Cas didn't look convinced, and Dean continued to laugh. "Seriously, I've seen much worse. You don't wanna know what Sammy's like behind the wheel."

Cas frowned. "I did not think that Sam was old enough to drive."

Dean shrugged. "On the road, he's not – he's got another year before that. But I've let him drive round the back of the garage a few times, just to show him the ropes – and let me tell you, once he is old enough to drive I'm moving countries. I don't wanna be anywhere near him on the road."

Silence fell for a few minutes, and Dean watched as Cas resumed what he had been doing – recording something in a journal on the kitchen table. He tried to work out what Cas could be doing – writing a diary? That was a little teenage-girly, but then again, Cas wasn't exactly a normal eighteen year old boy. Recording something? Dean really had no idea, and he doubted Cas would tell him if he asked, but he continued to mull a few increasingly ridiculous ideas in his mind (of course Cas wouldn't have a Deathnote!) until Cas snapped the notebook shut and tucked it into an organiser in the corner of the kitchen.

"I'm ready now." He stated.

"Great!" Dean smiled. "Let's go play meet the family!"

Cas looked momentarily confused, but walked over anyway, ducking into a room on the side to grab his trenchcoat on the way.

When he reached Dean, Dean put one arm out to stop him and gently pull him in closer. Cas looked at him slightly inquisitively, and Dean just smiled, before leaning down and brushing his lips over Cas's.

"I didn't really greet you properly earlier." He breathed, taking in the way Cas's eyes had fluttered closed and his breathing had increased slightly.

Cas sighed gently, before tilting his head up to reclaim Dean's lips in a slightly more forceful kiss.

Dean was a little surprised – Cas didn't normally initiate anything, that was Dean's job – but nonetheless he was pleased, and he kissed back with equal vigour, moving his hands so one rested on Cas's back and the other kept his head in place. Cas made a small noise of approval that went straight to Dean's groin, and Dean hurriedly tried to think of anything else to try and collect himself. This was really not the moment to get turned on. Both fortunately and unfortunately, Cas broke the kiss a moment later and stepped back, his incredibly blue eyes shining.

"We shouldn't keep the others waiting." Cas's voice had lowered, and Dean sucked in a breath at the hotness of it.

"Yeah. Right. Um." Dean was reluctant to step away, and Cas wasn't moving either.

There were a few moments of intense eye contact, during which Dean felt like he was drowning in the sea of blue that was Cas's eyes, before the moment was suddenly broken by the ringing of Dean's mobile.

"Damn." He whispered as he turned away and fished in his pocket to retrieve the annoying device.

"Yeah?"

"It's Sam, jerk. Where the hell are you?"

Oops. It must be later than Dean had thought. "On our way, bitch, keep your hair on. Actually, on second thoughts, don't – you could do with losing some of that mane anyway."

"Shut up."

"See you in a few." Dean hung up quickly and turned back to Cas.

"We need to go." Dean didn't think that he managed to keep all the disappointment and irritation out of his voice as he said that.

Cas nodded and walked towards the door, Dean following him. It made Dean smirk slightly as Cas carefully locked the door behind him, ensuring everything was perfectly safe before leaving. In an apartment block like this, Dean was surprised that locking the door was even necessary, but Cas's attention to detail was quite adorable.

They made their way outside quietly, Dean scurrying ahead slightly so that he could hold the car door open for Cas like a proper gentleman. Once he had done that, he slipped into the driver's seat quickly and, ignoring his seatbelt, turned the key and stuck the car in reverse.

AC/DC blared out of the speakers at full volume so suddenly Dean almost crashed, and he fumbled to turn it down to a slightly more bearable level, laughing at how Cas had pressed both hands over his ears.

"Sorry, Cas, I forgot I had it up that loud!" The ringing in his ears forced him to shout.

"You are going to be deaf in a few years." Cas commented.

Dean laughed. "If I go deaf because of too much rock music it'll all be worth it."

Cas gave him a condescending look, which amused Dean even more, before noticing that Dean wasn't wearing a seatbelt.

"Dean, you don't have your seatbelt on."

Dean shrugged. "Don't I? Ah well. It's ten minutes up the road, no biggie."

"Dean, you should out your seatbelt on. What happens if you crash?"

"I won't crash, Cas. It's fine. It's not the first time."

"I would feel more comfortable if you had your seatbelt on."

Dean sighed at Cas's persistence. "Well, I can't exactly put it on when I'm driving. If we stop at the traffic lights I'll put it on then. Happy?"

Cas paused for a moment, then suddenly reached over Dean, causing him to swerve.

"What are you...?"

Determinedly, Cas grabbed Dean's seatbelt and pulled it over, brushing down Dean's chest as he did so, before clipping it in and sitting back almost smugly.

Dean had felt a warm sensation run through him as Cas's hand brushed across his chest, and he found himself glancing across at Cas rather than at the road for a few seconds before realising what he was doing. Damn, Cas was going to be the death of him. He really was.

It wasn't long before they pulled up outside the Roadhouse where they had agreed to have their 'meet the family' meal, and Dean could feel his nerves returning. He had no idea what to expect. What would happen if everything went wrong?

He felt a hand on his shoulder and noticed Cas looking at him in confusion and concern.

"Are you alright, Dean?"

Dean plastered a smile onto his face. "Yeah, course I am. Right, shall we go in?"


	14. The Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV. Direct continuation of the previous chapter.

Castiel was slightly confused about Dean's actions – he seemed to be less focused than he normally was, and he was swinging between being overly confident and strangely jittery. He wasn't particularly good with emotions, but if Castiel didn't know any better, he would say that Dean was nervous about this meal. He had no idea why though. Deciding it was probably easier to ignore it, Castiel waited for Dean to get out of the car before following him towards the Roadhouse. He had to smile when Dean reached back and took Castiel's hand in his own – they didn't normally hold hands in public, but the comforting warmth of Dean's hand was a sensation Castiel thought he would quite like to get used to.

As soon as they entered the Roadhouse, they were both greeted by a smiling Ellen who nudged Dean's shoulder for a reason that Castiel didn't understand.

"Alright, you two? Sam and Jess are in the back, being harassed by some short guy who I think has a sugar addiction – and some sort of supermodel for a girlfriend."

"Harassed?" Dean asked, confused.

Castiel frowned. "My brother doesn't harass people, he is just – somewhat enthusiastic in his greetings. I agree, however, that he has a sugar addiction – that's the reason he decided to work in a sweet shop."

Ellen blinked at Castiel. "I was joking, sweetheart. Anyway, I have to get back to work, you can see yourselves through to the back. Call if you need anything."

Dean thanked Ellen before squeezing Castiel's hand and starting to walk towards the back. Castiel followed, still a little confused about how the comment about Gabriel harassing people could be a joke.

"Your brother doesn't sound much like you." Dean commented.

"He isn't." Castiel replied. "But you and Sam are not much alike either, from what I have seen."

Dean laughed. "True that."

They didn't get much further before a small figure leapt into Castiel, causing him to stagger backwards a pace and let go of Dean's hand. He instantly missed the warmth and comfort.

"Cassy-boy! Good to see you again!" Gabriel grinned up from his position plastered to Castiel's chest.

"It is nice to see you as well, Gabriel. Would you mind detaching yourself so that I can sit down?"

Gabriel laughed and released Castiel, before turning to Dean and giving him a once-over.

"Damn, Cassy-boy, you said he was hot, but this... how on Earth did you persuade him to date you?"

Castiel went red, while Dean raised his eyebrows and looked down at Gabriel with a wary expression.

"You must be Castiel's brother Gabriel." Dean eventually said, holding his hand out to shake.

Gabriel grinned, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. "And you must be Cassy-boy's boyfriend. Nice to meet you, Deano. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other." His eyes twinkled as he said that.

Dean didn't look very reassured as he dropped Gabriel's hand and stepped closer to Castiel.

"Right! While we're all doing introductions, may I introduce my girlfriend? Cassy-boy, Deano, this is Kali." Gabriel had an enormous smile on his face as he gestured to a woman sat at the table regarding the proceedings.

"Woah." Dean said, seemingly stunned into silence.

Castiel could instantly see that this woman was exactly Gabriel's type. She had a shock of brown, curly hair that was styled behind her back, a perfectly made up face with bright red lips and a tall, statuesque figure. She would make a very good model for Castiel to photograph some time, if she was willing – he could already envisage some very interesting shots. Possibly even with Dean – posing those two together would create a very interesting dynamic. Perhaps he should make the suggestion later on.

"It's lovely to meet you all." Kali's voice sounded almost bored, her tone suggesting that she wasn't entirely happy to be here. Her eyes flickered between Dean and Castiel and an expression that Castiel didn't quite understand came over her face.

Dean still hadn't moved, and Castiel noticed that he was still just staring at Kali in shock. A wave of jealousy came over him – Dean had never been that speechless around Castiel – and, somewhat roughly, he took Dean's hand again and pulled him to sit down at the table. Dean seemed to snap out of a trance and looked at Castiel almost apologetically as he sat down.

Sam and Jess were both sat at the table as well, and Jess greeted Castiel warmly as he sat down – Castiel felt slightly strange having a meal with his teacher. Sam, on the other hand, was staring at Dean almost accusingly, and something unspoken seemed to pass between them as Dean flushed and looked down at the table, saying nothing.

"Well, this is nice, isn't it!" Gabriel exclaimed as he sat down in the last chair and pecked Kali on the cheek. Kali smiled slightly – the expression seeming a little strange on her sculpted face – before returning to the look of blank indifference that was probably there nearly permanently.

Castiel didn't agree with Gabriel there – the atmosphere seemed quite stilted, like no-one really knew what to say.

"So, Cassy-boy, the art still going well?" Gabriel continued like he was immune to the awkwardness around him.

"Yes, I'm about halfway through my current project and I hope to be finished well before the deadline in four weeks time. I'm even considering trying some additional techniques as an experiment, should I have the time to do so. I will also be starting the research for the next project once Miss Moore releases more details about what it is."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jess?" Jess interjected, smiling at Castiel. "From what you've allowed me to see, your project is coming along brilliantly – and I can assure you, there's no need to start your research early. Concentrate on finishing this one and then I'll announce the next project to everyone once enough people are done."

"Are you his teacher then?" Kali sounded confused.

Jess smiled. "Yes, I started teaching recently and I teach Castiel art up at the Academy. He's a very talented student."

Kali purses her lips. "I was under the impression that you were dating Sam."

Castiel had an idea of where this conversation was going, and he didn't like it.

Sam looked up from where he had been on his phone under the table. "Yes, Jess and I have been dating for a while now."

"But she is a teacher and you are a student?" Kali questioned.

Sam shrugged. "She's not my teacher, so that's not a problem. Besides, it's only a three-year age gap, because she's a genius and did all her exams early."

"I'm not a genius." Jess responded, but she grinned at Sam anyway.

"Yes you are." Sam grinned back and leaned in to give her a chaste kiss, before moving back but putting one arm around her shoulders.

Castiel was feeling seriously uncomfortable. He didn't really know how to feel about Kali – before, Gabriel had talked about her with such reverence and he had been glad that his brother was settling down, but she seemed to be quite shallow and judgemental and Castiel was worried for his brother. If this didn't work out it might put his brother off longer term relationships, but if it did work out it would put a lot of strain on Castiel and Gabriel's relationship – Castiel didn't particularly want to spend more time than was strictly necessary around this seemingly unpleasant woman, and he doubted Dean did either, given how she was acting towards his 'baby brother'.

"Well." Kali's voice was just a tad too sweet to be sincere. "Some people would question the appropriateness of that relationship, but there appear to be plenty of unorthodox relationships around here, so I suppose that's just the norm."

Castiel felt Dean tense beside him and turned, worried that Dean was about to do something stupid.

"Are you trying to mock me and Cas for bein' gay?" Dean asked, a hint of anger in his voice.

Kali simply raised her eyebrows, and Castiel could sense Dean's anger brewing.

"Dean, calm down." Castiel placed a soothing hand on Dean's shoulder.

"The hell am I calmin' down! First she started havin' a go at Sammy and Jess, now she's attacking us too..."

"Dean!" Castiel stared hard into Dean's eyes and watched as he seemed to sag, clearly still upset but no longer raging. Castiel sighed. This really wasn't going very well – he really wished that Kali hadn't had to be there.

Looking across, Castiel noticed that Gabriel and Kali were having a whispered discussion, both with frowns on their faces and not looking very happy. After a few moments, Gabriel forced a slight smile onto his face and pecked Kali on the cheek, before standing up politely as Kali got out of her chair and made to leave.

Once she was out of earshot, Gabriel sat down again and sighed. "I'm sorry about that, she's not normally like that – she's had a tough few days at work, and there's a lot of prejudice in her family that she grew up with that she has to work really hard to overcome. She'll come around. But hopefully we can move on and have a nice dinner now, yeah? This is supposed to be happy! We don't even have any chocolate or pie yet!"

Dean seemed to perk up t the mention of pie, and Castiel started to internally smile at how good his brother was at reading people.

"I like the way you think." Dean commented, making a sign to call a waiter over.

An hour later, Castiel found himself back at his apartment with Dean. Fortunately, the rest of the meal had gone much better than the first bit had – if you could call Gabriel and Dean bonding over a mutual love of tricks and pie then proceeding to prank everyone else 'better' – and they had all decided that this should be a more regular thing. Gabriel had also given Dean the 'seal of approval' to date Castiel – he wasn't entirely sure what had been said, but Dean had left that particular talk with Gabriel bright red and refusing to talk about anything. Given that his brother was involved, Castiel wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

"You were right, Cas. Your brother is pretty cool." Dean grinned as he flopped down on Castiel's sofa, perfectly relaxed after consuming at least three large slices of Roadhouse pie.

Castiel felt a momentary surge of insecurity and jealousy, but shoved it aside. Of course Dean liked his brother – but that was a good thing for their relationship, not something to make him jealous.

"Yes." Castiel moved over and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa to Dean. However, Dean clearly wasn't having that, and he shifted so that he was lying back with his head in Castiel's lap. Castiel tensed for a moment, confused, but then relaxed, reaching out to run a hand through Dean's short hair. Dean smiled at the touch and moved into it, and Castiel let out a short chuckle at how catlike Dean was with that movement.

"What?" Dean asked, turning to look up at Castiel, green eyes shining with warmth.

"It is cute how you enjoy having your hair stroked." Castiel replied with his usual seriousness.

Dean frowned. "I am not 'cute' Cas, I'm not a little girl."

"Are you sure about that?" Castiel teased, mimicking a phrase he'd heard Gabriel use.

A smirk made its way over Dean's face, and he suddenly sat up, pinning Castiel against the edge of the sofa. Castiel's breathing sped up, and he felt himself react to being pressed up against Dean, the warmth of Dean's body enveloping him in a way that was nearly suffocating.

"I can assure you there is nothing little or girly about me." Dean's voice was low and seductive, and his lips were only millimetres away from Castiel's own. "Would you like me to prove it?"

Castiel's mind was short-circuiting, and he couldn't do anything but sit there helplessly. He could have thrown Dean off if he'd wanted, he'd had enough martial arts training, but in a way he liked this – he was both terrified and thrilled at the same time, and he had no idea whether he wanted to move closer or pull away.

Fortunately, the dilemma was solved for him when Dean smiled and moved back, still facing Castiel but allowing him room to breathe.

"Sorry. I forget sometimes that you're not used to this." Dean looked awkward, like he was worried he'd done something wrong, and Castiel smiled at how caring he was, moving forwards to place a kiss on Dean's cheek.

"It's fine, Dean. You do not need to worry. The situation was not... unpleasant."

A massive grin spread across Dean's face. "Really? You were ok with that?"

Castiel nodded slowly.

Dean continued to smile and moved forward again, more slowly this time, allowing Castiel to adjust as he braced himself above him, close enough to smell the exquisite scent that was uniquely Dean, but not so close that they were touching. Castiel moved his arms up to Dean's sides, closing the gap between them, and in response Dean moved his head down towards Castiel's, grazing his lips along Castiel's jawline and pausing at his ear. Castiel felt his breath hitch, and gripped onto Dean's sides slightly tighter, needing something to ground him as he felt his mind start to float again.

"Good," Dean whispered softly, before gently nipping at Castiel's earlobe, causing him to close his eyes and tilt his head back. The sensations were almost too much – this was different to everything that had happened between them before, more suggestive and intimate, and even if it was a lot to cope with, Castiel had already decided that he liked it.

Dean moved his mouth away from Castiel's ear and Castiel frowned, opening his eyes again, before Dean surged forwards with more passion than he ever had before and claimed Castiel's lips.


	15. At War With The Thirst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV

*Flashback*

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, his hands running down his back over that ridiculous trenchcoat, and moaned as Cas returned the kiss with fervour, tongues battling in a way that they never had before. Amazed that Cas was actually responding positively to his actions, Dean took it one step further as he moved his hands to Castiel's front and started to unbutton his trenchcoat. He managed to pop out two out of the five buttons before Cas broke the kiss and sat back, cheeks flushed but a confused expression on his face.

"What are you doing, Dean?" He asked.

Dean moved forward again, running one hand over Cas's chest as he reached for a third button.

"You're wearin' too many clothes," He purred, smirking seductively up at Cas."You're going to boil in this coat."

Cas tilted his head adorably to one side, watching as Dean popped open a third button and slowly trailed his hand down to the fourth.

"The temperature is far too low for me to 'boil', Dean, that would take the sort of heat that could never be replicated in a domestic setting – "

Trying to shut Cas up, Dean moved his head up and captured Cas's lips again whilst undoing the fourth button and finally reaching the fifth. Smirking into the kiss, he yanked open the final button with no real finesse and instantly plunged his hands inside, feeling the warmth radiating from Cas from under his suit.

Cas let out a small moan at the sensation, and the sound went straight to Dean's groin, causing his breath to hitch before he growled and pushed Cas down into the sofa, hovering over him as he plundered his mouth with the desperation of a dying man.

Cas tensed slightly below him, but didn't break the kiss – instead, the hesitantly moved his own hands up and ran them over Dean's back, massaging small circles through the faded leather. Dean hummed in appreciation, moving into the touch, and was just allowing himself to sink into the throes of pleasure when Cas broke the kiss and moved his head to one side, removing his arms from Dean's back and instead using them to push Dean off him so that he could sit up.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I am not accustomed enough to this to take the physical side of our relationship any further at this stage."

Feeling guilt start to wrap around his heart, Dean nodded, looking at Cas with a slightly wary expression.

"Do not worry. That was very much enjoyable and you did not take things too far. But I feel that that is an appropriate maximum level of intimacy for this point in our relationship."

*End Flashback

Scowling, Dean snapped out of the memory at the sound of a car door next to his head. Realising that he had, once again, started daydreaming while at college, he sighed and pulled himself out from under the car, sitting up as his boss, Bobby, rounded the corner.

"You almost done, there, boy? What's takin' you so long? I need that car finished by the end of today, and if you have to stay back late to finish her, so be it!"

Dean nodded apologetically. "Sorry boss. I just need to do some final work on the engine and then clean her up, and she'll be good as new."

The man nodded. "Just see that it gets done. Detective Mills is a very good friend of mine, and I would hate to see her disappointed."

He turned and left, and Dean sighed again, reaching over to pop open the bonnet to have a final look at the engine.

It wasn't long before his thoughts once again turned to that day with Cas. The feel of him under him, the way that even though he hadn't really known what to do he responded anyway... and the way that he had pulled back and given Dean the biggest case of blue balls he had ever had in his life, so bad that he had had to excuse himself to the bathroom for fifteen minutes so that he didn't end up jumping Cas and ruining everything. Not that trying to remain silent in his boyfriend's bathroom was much of a better situation.

Dean entirely respected the fact that Cas was inexperienced and wanted to go slow. In a way, he agreed that that was the best way to proceed here. But Dean had never been in a relationship before, and he wasn't used to the whole 'delayed gratification' business – it was seriously hard for him to remain so restrained, especially when Cas responded even when he wasn't sure about something. Dean was extremely happy with Cas, happier than he had perhaps ever been, but he couldn't help but wish sometimes that Cas was a little less... restrained about these things.

It didn't help that in the week since then, the two of them had barely seen each other. They had exchanged numerous emails, and one night they had gone out for dinner with Sam and Jess at the Roadhouse, but afterwards Cas had said he needed to go straight home to work on his art project and he hadn't even invited Dean in – Dean knew that art was important to Cas, and he respected how much work being a scholarship student at a prestigious Academy must be, but still. He wanted to see his boyfriend. And the fact that they had barely been able to do anything since that day was making Dean feel like Cas was avoiding him, which really hurt.

Trying to put those thoughts out of his mind, Dean concentrated on making the final adjustments on Detective Mills' car's engine. Of course, he had to be assigned to his boss' girlfriend's car when he wasn't in the right frame of mind to work. That was how his life was working at the moment. Rolling his eyes, Dean stepped back and smacked his head against the bonnet of the car.

"Sonova..."

"Dean?"

His head throbbing, Dean spun around with a glare to see Sam standing behind him looking concerned.

"Sammy? What are you doin' here?" Dean winced as he spoke, wandering over to the mini fridge in the corner of the garage area – thank God for his boss's supply of icepacks used to keep the beer cool.

Sam looked concerned. "Are you alright?" He asked, avoiding Dean's question.

Dean directed the strongest bitchface he could in Sam's direction, slapping an icepack onto his throbbing head and collapsing onto an upturned bucket.

"Yes, I'm clearly just perfect right now. Bitch."

"Jerk," Sammy replied instantly, wandering over and grabbing the icepack. He pressed it more gently against Dean's head and Dean sighed, leaning back against the garage wall.

"Really though, Sammy, what are you doin' here?"

"It's Sam," Sam intoned. "I wanted to ask you if you could give me a lift to the Academy Art exhibition next week. Jess'll be too busy organising everything to pick me up, and I assumed you were going anyway, because Cas's art'll be on display."

Dean blinked. "The exhibition's next week?"

Sam looked shocked. "Well, yeah – didn't you wonder why your boyfriend's been so busy?"

Dean shrugged, hissing as the movement made Sam's hand bump against his bruised head. "Watch it! And well, I know he's been busy, but I kinda thought he just didn't wanna see me."

Sam frowned. "Why? The guy's smitten – before this, you were practically spending every minute you could together."

"He is not smitten," Dean commented, but he couldn't deny that a warm feeling went through him at the thought. "Plus, we weren't spendin' that much time together, we're both too busy for that. I kinda screwed up last week anyway; we haven't spoken that much since."

"What did you do?"

Trust Sam to have the subtlety of a blunt knife.

"It's none of your business." Dean pushed the icepack away and stood up, ignoring the way that the world spun for a second, and walked towards the hose.

"I can't help if you don't tell me." Sam looked at Dean slightly worriedly and put the icepack away in the fridge.

"You can't help anyway. Not unless you have some kinda magic potion that can turn a guy's libido off."

Sam gasped. "Please tell me you didn't try to force Cas into sex."

"Of course not!" Dean snapped. "I would never do anythin' like that! I'm not a rapist! No, I'm just frustrated and Cas was sending mixed signals, and now he's ignorin' me, and it freakin' sucks. Sometimes I wish the guy was more normal."

"You don't mean that."

Grabbing the hose and aiming it at the car, Dean shrugged.

"Well, maybe I don't. But it would make life a lot easier."

Chuckling slightly, Sam wandered over to Dean.

"So basically, you've got blue balls because Cas won't just fall into bed with you, and he's panicking because he's stressed about his art and you're not talking to him very much so he thinks he's done something wrong. You two make a right pair of idiots!" Sam seemed very amused by the whole situation.

"What do you mean he thinks he's done somethin' wrong? Have you been talkin' to him?" A hint of jealousy crept into Dean's voice.

Sam laughed. "Oh, stop sounding so jealous Dean, I have a girlfriend. Cas is all yours. But yes, I've been talking to him, he's my friend. He emailed me a few days ago all worried about why you were acting so 'distant' and not talking to him very much. I told him not to worry about it, it was nothing, but he keeps asking if you're alright and if he's done something wrong."

"Wait, he thinks I'm actin' distant? He's the one who didn't bother to email me!"

"Only because you didn't email him! Maybe one of you needs to grow up and take some initiative here!"

Dean paused, beginning to sense the logic. Not that he would ever admit his brother was right.

"Fine. Bitch."

"Jerk."

There was a brief moment of silence, only broken by the sound of the hose as Dean washed the last few specks of dirt off the car.

"So, can you take me to the exhibition next week then?"

Dean turned to look at Sam. "Yeah, fine. I'll text you the details nearer the time. Now shoo, I need to finish this car or the boss'll have my ass."

Sam grinned. "Now, we couldn't have that, could we? Need to keep it all pretty for Cas."

Dean flushed bright red and swung the hose round, soaking his brother who squealed and leapt backwards.

"Shut up!" Dean exclaimed.

Sam just laughed, before making a hasty retreat before his brother could soak him again.


	16. Take It Out On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV

Castiel moved the paintbrush lightly over the canvas with a mournful expression, allowing his emotions to flow into the art. It was rare that he just let his creativity flow like this, with no real goal for the piece, but it was the only way for him to express what he was feeling right now. Six days. It had been six days since he had even spoken to Dean, and Castiel felt like it was the end of the world. He should never have allowed himself to get into this mess. Before he had started his 'relationship' with Dean, his life had been simple, unemotional, uncomplicated by the mysteries of other humans. But then Dean had come along. Sweet, handsome Dean, who took his hand and showed him how truly amazing being with other people could be. Castiel had been in Heaven. He should have known that it could never last. Someone like him just wasn't cut out to be in a relationship with someone like Dean.

A single tear running down his cheek, Castiel sat back and looked at the masterpiece he had created. A mass of storm clouds, resplendent in black, grey and purple, encircled a pair of figures in the centre of the piece. One stood tall and proud, enormous wings made of shadows darker than night sprouting from his shoulders. Dean – the angel in Castiel's turbulent life. The other was crouched, shirtless, his face turned away, defeated by the other's majesty. Castiel didn't normally paint himself, but he couldn't deny that that was who the figure represented. He had tried to fly alongside the angels and ended up broken and bloody. What an excellent metaphor for his life right now.

Turning away from the image before he broke down entirely, Castiel quickly rinsed off his paintbrushes and packed away his art stuff before collapsing onto his bed. He didn't want to move anywhere else today. He had barely even attended classes at the Academy for a week – Jess had commented after just a couple of days of Dean not emailing that he looked peaky, and Castiel had taken the opportunity to claim he was unwell and take some time off. Previously he had never had a day off in his life – Dean truly had corrupted him.

At that moment, Castiel realised that he had just collapsed onto his bed with his boots on, spreading mud over the bottom of his bed. He groaned. He didn't even remember putting on boots, it wasn't like he had needed to go outside today, and now he was going to have to wash his bed linen. So much for staying inside and moping for another day. With tremendous effort, Castiel swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Quickly pulling off the duvet cover and bedsheets, he chucked everything else back on the bed before balling up the fabric and carrying it out into the sitting area. Stuffing it all into a large carrier bag, Castiel grabbed his keys and wallet before marching irritably to the flat door and yanking it open – and almost tripping over his next door neighbour who was walking past.

"Oof! I am very sorry Miss Mason; I was not looking where I was going."

The sixteen year old raised her plucked, blonde eyebrows, a slightly incredulous expression on her face.

"Right... by the way, your coat's on inside out."

She walked over to her own door and seamlessly let herself inside, while Castiel stood there awkwardly. She was right – his coat really was on inside out. He hadn't noticed. Sighing to himself, he shrugged off the coat before pulling it back on the right way and shutting the door and picking up the carrier bag. He really needed to pull himself together.

Five minutes down the road, Castiel was reminded how useful it was that Dean had a car. Mundane little trips like this, just to a launderette or somewhere similar, were so much easier when you could call someone else to drive you there. Gritting his teeth, Castiel hoisted the bag more securely in his hands and tried not to think about Dean. He didn't need to torture himself any more about this.

Finally reaching the launderette, Castiel shoved the door open with one hand and quickly made his way over to a free washing machine. As fast as he could, he stuffed all the linen into the machine, added the necessary soap powder and selected a random mode (he had never really got the hang of what they meant). It was only after he had straightened up and prepared himself for the wait that he realised who he was standing next to.

"Cas?"

"Dean?"

Dean's eyes were shining. "Frick, Cas buddy, I've missed you so much!" He moved to hug Castiel, but suddenly something inside Castiel broke and all the frustration inside him broke out.

"DEAN WINCHESTER, HOW DARE YOU IGNORE ME FOR A WEEK AND THEN SPEAK TO ME AS IF EVERYTHING IS FINE!" He shoved Dean backwards into the nearest washing machine and grabbed his shirt collar.

"Cas, I'm sorry..."

"DO NOT TRY AND APOLOGISE DEAN!" Castiel was towering over Dean, even though he was usually a couple of inches smaller. Dean was actually cowering at the expression on Castiel's face.

"What do you want me to say? Cas, I was an idiot, I didn't mean to hurt you..."

"WELL YOU DID!" Castiel glared down at Dean. "I GAVE UP EVERYTHING FOR YOU DEAN. I CHANGED MY ENTIRE LIFE FOR YOU. AND WHAT DO YOU DO TO ME? YOU IGNORE ME, WITH NO EXPLANATION AND THEN ACT AS THOUGH YOU HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG! I AM NOT JUST A TOY THAT YOU CAN PICK UP WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE IT DEAN."

A small crowd had gathered around the arguing pair, but neither of them noticed.

"Cas, baby, I really am sorry. I was stupid. I thought that you were ignoring me, that you didn't want to talk to me..."

That stopped Castiel short.

Confused, he let go of Dean's shirt and stepped back, allowing Dean to straighten up from where he had been cowering. His face was ashen pale, and as he smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt Castiel noticed that his hands were shaking.

"You thought I didn't want to talk to you?" Castiel asked incredulously.

Dean shrugged helplessly. "I didn't know! I mean, one minute we were gettin' on fine, and then I thought I screwed up, and I panicked, and you didn't email so I thought you didn't want to talk anymore, and so I just didn't talk either. Sammy kept goin' on at me for it 'cause I was gettin' distracted at college thinkin' of you, but I didn't want to say anythin' in case you didn't want to talk to me."

Castiel lilted his head to one side.

"Why wouldn't I want to talk to you? Dean, you're everything to me."

There was a sudden 'aww', and both Castiel and Dean looked around to see a small crowd of onlookers clustered around observing what was happening.

Castiel instantly felt his face feat up red, as Dean called out,

"Quit staring, nosy buggers! This has nothin' to do with you!"

The crowd slowly dissipated, and Castiel tried to hide his embarrassment by staring at his washing machine, watching the bedlinen he had put in spin round and round.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him from behind, and he was engulfed by the smell of diesel and leather that always surrounded Dean.

"You're everythin' to me too, you know." Dean murmured in his ear. "Well, except Sammy, but then he's different. Never underestimate how important you are."

A small smile crept its way over Castiel's face.

Gently, Dean turned Castiel around before pressing their lips together in the smallest of movements. Castiel sighed, before slowly returning the kiss, wrapping his own arms around Dean. They stayed that way, just staring into each other's eyes, until a tap on Castiel's arm brought him back into reality.

"Sir, your washing has finished, so if you wouldn't mind, I would advise that you, ahem, go elsewhere."

Castiel blinked, before his eyes widened and he hurriedly stepped away from Dean, yanking open his washing machine and pulling damp clothes back into his carrier bag.

"My apologies. My friend and I will be leaving now."

Dean raised an eyebrow, pulling his own washing out of a washing machine. "Are you askin' me to come home with you, Cas?"

An expression came over Castiel's face that could only be called a smirk.

"Of course, Dean. I do not have a car, and why would I walk all the way home when you could just give me a lift?"

"Are you suggestin' that you're only datin' me because of my car?"

"Well, it's a definite advantage." Castiel paused. "That and your excellent kissing ability. I rather appreciate that part as well."

Dean grinned. "Well, if we can get out of here I can put that ability to good use, eh?"

Castiel smiled. "I would like that."

Still grinning, Dean slipped his hand into Castiel's free one and led the way out of the shop.

It was then that Castiel realised what Dean really was to him. He wasn't an angel that Castiel had tried to fly with and fallen. He was the angel who had gripped Castiel and raised him from perdition – and was now carrying him so that he would never fall again.


	17. Waiting For The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV

Castiel had never felt so nervous.

Today was the final submission date for all of the art that would form the Academy's next exhibition. Having your work chosen for display was considered a huge honour – and it was incredibly important to all of the students. So far, Castiel had had at least one piece of work in every single exhibition, and he was really hopeful that this one would be no different. He had slaved away for night after night perfecting everything that he had done, and he was confident that his work was a very high standard. However, the standard of your work meant very little in the art world if it wasn't what the judge was looking for.

There was, of course, another reason why Castiel was so anxious about his work being selected. His subject in every single piece of work he had produced for this project was Dean. His Dean. The Dean who he wanted to like the art he produced and be proud of him more than anything. Dean had already said that he was coming to the exhibition no matter what – so what would happen if Dean didn't like what he had done? Castiel couldn't think of anything worse than disappointing Dean, and considering the ridiculously high opinion of him that Dean seemed to have, that was an extremely likely possibility. In his eyes, Dean's view was more important than any examiner – and it was the anticipation of that that was making Castiel's palms sweat and his throat dry.

Fortunately, his nervousness hardly made him stand out. All the students who were milling around the large art classroom seemed to be in a similar state of nervousness – Becky was pacing around in a corner muttering something unintelligible, Madison was leaning against a wall with her eyes closed looking even paler than normal, and even Michael had worry in his eyes behind his carefully schooled, expressionless persona. Castiel only ever saw his fellow classmates like this on selection or results days – previously, it had been one of the reasons why he didn't spend time with other people. They were all proof of the weaknesses of emotions. But now that Castiel had someone he desperately wanted to impress too, he felt that he understood those around him a lot more.

Suddenly, someone tapped Castiel's shoulder and he turned around, confused, to see Charlie standing there with a nervous half-smile on her face.

"Hey, Castiel – you don't normally seem this nervous."

"Neither do you." Nice as Charlie was, Castiel felt no need to discuss his current thoughts with her.

Charlie laughed slightly. "No, I suppose not... but then, this is kind of like waiting for the tributes' names before the Hunger Games, isn't it? Except, of course, being selected is good instead of bad."

Castiel frowned. "I do not understand that reference."

Charlie sighed, rolling her eyes. "You mean Dean hasn't made you read the Hunger Games yet? He refused to read it for ages, but when I did I know even he cried at some parts of it. The guy's a wimp when it comes to fictional characters dying."

Castiel frowned harder. "How do you know about...?"

A grin crossed Charlie's face. "It's not exactly hard to guess. Basically everyone here knows that you two are together – once word reached Becky it wasn't going to stay quiet. We're all happy for you. Even most of the homophobic douche-nozzles are quite nice about it. Wish they were that way about me."

Castiel's head tilted sideways. "I do not see how Dean's and my relationship would be of interest to other people."

"You, my friend, have a lot to learn about gossip." Charlie replied seriously.

Before Castiel had time to fully process that comment, the classroom door opened and Miss Moore walked in smiling, followed by two of the other art teachers, Mr Roche and Miss Talbot. Castiel's nerves returned with force and he felt himself tensing up, his heart rate increasing. Beside him, he heard Charlie suck in a breath.

"Alright, everyone, thank you all for coming in on a non-school day to submit your work! I know you've all been looking forward to this, the exhibitions are one of the highlights of the Academy year. All of you submitted work of a very high standard and it was extremely hard to choose which pieces of work to include in the main display that will be visible to the general public."

Castiel had never disliked Jess's habit of turning everything into a speech more.

"I am pleased to say that the majority of people in this class have had at least one of their pieces included in the display. A few of you have multiple pieces included, and one of you..."

Was it Castiel's imagination, or did Jess's eyes flick to him there?

"... has had a piece nominated for the central piece on display. As one of the senior classes it is only fitting that you work should be of the highest standard, but it is still an enormous achievement at just 17 or 18 to have your artwork form the major piece in an open exhibition."

It had definitely been wishful thinking. Castiel would never have a piece displayed as the major attraction in a public exhibition – he was good at what he did, but he wasn't that good. He lacked that true emotional passion that the best artists possessed.

At that point, Miss Talbot took over. Castiel had never really had much to do with her, but her poise and attitude sparked something in him that instantly made him a bit wary.

"Now, by this point I'm sure you know what happens next – one of us will call you in to discuss any pieces that we have selected and how you want them displayed. Once that's done, you can go home and relax for a few days until the exhibition opens, after which you will be expected back in the Academy to begin work on your next module. Any art-related problems that you have during that time you can contact us about, but otherwise we'd appreciate being left alone to organise everything."

Castiel wasn't entirely sure, but he had a feeling that Miss Talbot was subtly hinting that she would like nothing better than for everyone to simply go away after this. How polite.

"First, I'd like to talk to Michael."

Michael's eyes widened slightly, presumably in surprise at being chosen first, before he stepped forward and followed Miss Talbot out of the classroom. Castiel noted how his hands were shaking slightly in the sleeves of his suit.

"And I would request the pleasure of a conversation with Becky." Mr Roche had one of the most confused accents Castiel had ever heard, slightly English and slightly French with a hint of something else entirely, and despite being in a school he used it like a weapon of seduction. Castiel frowned slightly as Becky traipsed nervously after him, almost tripping over a table leg on her way out of the room.

"Castiel? I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."

Of course, as Castiel was dating her boyfriend's brother, Jess would insist on remaining assigned to him. It didn't seem terribly professional of her, but Castiel had to admit that she was nicer than the other two teachers.

Offering a small nod, Castiel walked slowly over to where Jess was standing before following her out of the room. They didn't go far – just into one of the larger offices at the end of the corridor – and as soon as they were there, Jess pushed the door shut and flicked a bolt across to lock it.

"I have to say, Castiel, the work you submitted has got to be some of the best you have ever done."

The sincerity in Jess's voice made Castiel smile.

"Thank you."

"Your work has always been very technically correct and very imaginative, but it somehow lacked emotional depth. Your portraits of Dean show how much you care about him – the emotions you feel are very obvious, and that makes every one of them really stand out."

Castiel's smile widened. "Dean is... a remarkable man."

Jess smiled back. "That he certainly is. Now, we could really have chosen any of your pieces for display – in fact, I don't think that displaying all of it would have been overkill in the slightest. However, after a process of narrowing it down we chose five of your pieces to be included which we feel really capture your creative expression.

Castiel was stunned. Five pieces? He had been hoping for one, perhaps two... getting as many as five chosen was very rare.

A niggling feeling had started in his chest though, and he had to vocalise it.

"You are certain that each piece is to a high enough standard? This isn't simply because I am dating the brother of your boyfriend, and the images are of him?"

Jess looked affronted. "Castiel, as much as I support your relationship with Dean, I would never allow it to influence my choices professionally. You need to have more faith in your own talent."

Castiel nodded. "My apologies."

"There was one piece, however, which stood out even amongst those five. It sparked quite a discussion during the judging process between us teachers and what could have inspired it. It's very unlike any work you have produced previously."

Castiel did his customary confused head tilt. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Oh no, of course not! This painting is stunning, absolutely stunning, and the way it has done obviously took a huge amount of effort and talent. I suppose it just... makes me uncomfortable, in a way, as I know the people involved in it."

"It makes you uncomfortable seeing paintings of people you know?" Now Castiel was really confused.

Jess shook her head. "Oh no, you misunderstand me. I think this would work better if I showed you what I was talking about."

Stepping around the paint-splattered desk in the middle of the room, Jess walked over to one corner where a group of sheet-covered paintings or pictures stood. Rummaging around, she finally extracted a large, wooden-backed canvas and set it in front of Castiel.

"This is the piece I am talking about."

Finally, she turned the piece around, and Castiel's eyes widened.

Of course that was the piece that she had a problem with.

It was the painting that he had done when him and Dean were arguing, the one that depicted a fierce, angry, angelic Dean with wings made of shadows towering over a broken and defeated Castiel. The painting that gave out emotions of anger and sorrow and betrayal whether you knew the reason it had been completed or not. Jess could probably even see that the crouched figure represented Castiel himself, and had drawn her own conclusions from that.

"It is not what you think." Castiel murmured, reaching out one hand to trace over the figure of Dean. "I was... conflicted, and I needed a way to express my feelings. They are irrelevant now. I considered not even handing this piece in, it isn't something that was intended for display."

"You had an argument." Jess's voice was soft.

Castiel shrugged. "We had a minor misunderstanding. It is all resolved now."

"You're sure?"

Castiel looked up at Jess with hard eyes. "Certain."

Jess smiled. "I'm very glad. In any case, this painting is truly remarkable – the detail and emotion in it is like nothing I've ever seen before. Everyone else who was judging agreed on me. That's why we wanted to ask your permission to make this the centrepiece."

The world paused.

"What?" Castiel was completely disbelieving.

"Castiel, this image is everything that a piece of artwork should be. It's a pure expression of emotion, a way of getting down the thoughts that are in your head and capturing them for others to see. The problem with many people here, you included, is that they get so focused on the technical side that they forget art is about expression, feeling – the piece is hollow without passion injected into it. This piece is more passionate than I have seen anyone produce in my entire life, and it deserves as much attention as it can get. I know that it may be personal to you, but trust me when I say that including this could be the ticket that gets you a professional art career after school."

It was tempting – very tempting – but Castiel was worried about how Dean would react to it.

"Dean..."

"Dean would be proud and honoured that you pictured him as an angel, although he will vehemently deny that he is any such thing. I can also imagine him choosing to demonstrate how you are nothing like the inferior wreck you painted yourself as in this image. Dean is the sort of person who always puts someone else before himself, and I imagine that this will give him an insight into your mind and how you view him and yourself, which he desperately needs."

Castiel's voice quietened. "Will he still like me, when he sees that I have painted this?"

Jess looked up at Castiel as though he was blind. "Castiel, that boy loves you from the bottom of his heart. I have never seen him care that much for anyone except his brother. He's smitten by you, and nothing will change that."

A warm feeling settled in Castiel's stomach at the thought. He wasn't sure that he believed it – he wouldn't until the words fell from Dean's lips themselves – but even the possibility made him happy.

"You may use the painting as your centrepiece. I would be very honoured for you to choose my work."

Jess grinned at Castiel.

"I'm proud of you. You've come on amazingly this year – you've realised that just working hard isn't everything. That's an important life lesson for anyone, especially an artist. You can't study creative expression."

Castiel found himself smiling back. "No... I suppose you cannot."


	18. This Picture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's POV

Dean awkwardly straightened his tie as he glanced at himself in the mirror, grimacing at how he looked. The borrowed suit was too short and uncomfortably tight around the shoulders, and the only cufflinks he had been able to get hold of were novelty poké-ball ones that one of his college mates had received for an eighteenth birthday present. He looked like some kind of idiot playing dress-up, but at least he had made the effort. Hopefully Castiel would appreciate Dean's foray outside of his comfort zone, even if no-one else did.

"Hey, Jerk, you nearly ready? We need supposed to be there in fifteen minutes." Sam poked his head round the door of Dean's room and frowned at Dean. "Huh. You weren't lying when you said the suit was small on you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Man, I feel like I'm being suffocated."

"You can take the jacket off when you get there." Sam clearly didn't have much sympathy.

"What's the point in wearin' it if I'm just going to take it off as soon as I arrive?"

Sam gave Dean one of his patented bitchfaces. "Just wear the jacket until you're actually in the gallery. It won't kill you. Now come on, Cas'll be disappointed if you're late and we still have to pick up Jess."

Dean smiled slightly at the thought of Cas, before grabbing the Impala's keys and preparing to leave. "I still don't understand why she couldn't get ready here."

Sam chuckled, a smirk spreading across his face. "You can so tell that you've never had a girlfriend."

"Hey! I slept with plenty of girls before I met Cas, thank you very much. Plus, Cas is better than any girl."

"I said girlfriend, not random hook up that only lasted one night."

The two continued bickering all the way to the car, and by the time they got there Dean was nearly ready to punch his brother in his smug little face. Stupid posh kids with their superiority complexes.

Once they were sitting in the Impala, Dean decided it was time to enact his revenge. Rooting around in the glove compartment he extracted a mix-tape of his favourite old metal albums and shoved it in, turning the volume all the way up.

"Dean! Turn it down!"

Sam attempted to hit the volume but Dean shoved him sideways, almost swerving into a lamppost as he did so.

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. Now stop being a bitch and let me drive."

Five minutes later, they pulled up outside the quaint little apartment block that Jess lived in. Sam hurriedly got out to go and meet her while Dean stayed in the car, anticipation building about seeing Cas and his artwork.

Dean knew that this was really important to Cas – he had seemed really nervous the last time Dean had spoken to him, and Dean wanted to be as supportive as possible. He was also really curious about what Cas had produced – after all, Cas had based everything that he had done on Dean. It was going to be pretty weird seeing multiple images of himself in an exhibition, but even though he had never really seen any of Cas's work, he was sure it would be incredible. After all, Cas had produced it, and Cas was just amazing.

The door of the Impala swung open and Dean smiled to himself as Sam held it open so that Jess could get in the car. He turned the music down (to Sam's obvious relief) before taking in the baby pink dress that Jess was wearing and her carefully done makeup and letting out a whistle.

"Well, Jess, don't you look incredible! I'm surprised my brother can keep his hands off."

Jess smiled and blushed a little, and Sam punched Dean on the shoulder as he climbed in beside Jess and took her hand.

"I think you're going to be very impressed with Castiel's art, Dean. What he's produced is better than anything anyone has seen him do before - but then again, seeing as his work is the centrepiece of the exhibition I presume you already know that."

Dean's mouth opened in shock, and he had to force himself to keep looking at the road instead of turning to face Jess. "His work is the centrepiece? Like, the main part of the exhibition?"

"Castiel didn't tell you that?" Jess sounded surprised.

"No!" Dean felt a little hurt that Cas hadn't shared that gem of information with him – but at the same time, he felt a surge of pride on his boyfriend's behalf.

"He probably wanted to surprise you. Don't tell him that I gave the surprise way."

A thought suddenly popped into Dean's head. "Wait, so does that mean that the main thing for everyone to stare at is this massive picture of me?"

Jess laughed. "It's a very flattering picture, don't worry."

Dean wasn't sure if he was entirely comfortable with that, but he let it slide. He couldn't afford to show nerves here – this was Cas's time to shine, and the poor guy was probably a hundred times more terrified than Dean was about people's reactions. He had to be strong and supportive for his boyfriend.

Soon enough, Dean was pulling into the car park of the art gallery and being directed to one of the private parking spaces next to the entrance (there were definite perks to arriving with one of the teachers). Adjusting his uncomfortable suit jacket to try and make it look slightly less constricting than it was, he got out of the car and waited for Sam and Jess.

"I have to go and make sure everything's set up. I'll see you inside." Jess kissed Sam briefly on the lips before turning to walk inside, leaving Dean and Sam to make their own way.

"Have you seen any of Cas's art?" Sam asked as the two of them made their way to the queue of people waiting to be allowed inside.

"Not really, he's quite private about it. I've seen scribbles and stuff lying around his flat but nothing finished."

"Jess says that art is like an extension of the soul – it's a way of displaying your most private thoughts and emotions. I suppose it makes sense to be private about something like that."

Dean rolled his eyes at the soppy way in which Sam talked about Jess. "Sam, as much as I think you and Jess are cute together I'd rather not hear that tone of voice from you ever again."

"You're one to talk! You should see the glazed look in your eyes that you get whenever you talk about Cas."

"I do not!" Dean denied, trying to stop the blush that as attempting to make a home on his face.

"Oh stop denying it, it's painfully obvious. It's not like I have a problem with it, I think it's cute."

"Bitch." Dean really didn't want to have this conversation with his brother.

"Jerk."

The pair fell into silence for a few moments, before Dean felt a tap on his shoulder and spun round to see a familiar looking girl standing behind him in the queue.

"Hey, Dean. Remember me?" Her voice was flirtatious and she batted her heavily made up lashes as she said it.

"Urmm..." Dean wasn't sure that he wanted to get into a conversation with her, but deciding to be polite he racked his brains for why she sounded familiar. "Oh! Lisa, right?"

She gave him a dazzling smile. "I'm so excited to see all the pictures that were done of me. I mean, the weird gothic ones that Madison or whatever her name is did are just going to be weird, but the nice ones Ezekiel did should be lovely. Do you know much about the ones of you?"

Dean stepped backwards, realizing that Lisa was rather crowding his personal space. "Not really. I haven't even spoken to Michael since the shoot, but I know Cas – I mean Castiel – has some nice ones."

"Cas?" Lisa raised a single plucked eyebrow. "The weird kid in the trenchcoat? You two are friends now?"

"They're dating." It was Sam who answered, finally cluing in one the conversation, and Dean couldn't help but feel glad that he didn't have to explain that himself.

"Dating?" Lisa looked incredulous, and stepped back from Dean hurriedly. "You're gay?"

"Bisexual. And if you have a problem with that, then I suggest you stay outta my life."

Fortunately for Dean, the queue started to move forwards and he managed to escape with Sam before Lisa could reply with a scathing comment.

"Old flame?" Sam asked curiously.

"No, just a random chick. But would you really want to know if she was?"

Sam chuckled. "Not really."

Dean followed the crowd of people into the gallery, glancing around to try and spot Cas. He could see Jess and a couple of older people who he presumed were the other teachers conversing on the other side of the entrance hall, and Sam slipped away to go and join them, but none of the students were anywhere to be seen. Dean guessed that Cas was with them inside the exhibition itself, but he couldn't help but feel rather awkward and out of place without Cas beside him.

"Dean!" A voice in his ear made him turn around and he grinned at the sight of the girl beside him.

"Charlie! It's great to see you again! Have you seen Cas?"

Charlie grinned. "Pining after your boyfriend already? He's inside, I think he was having an argument with one of the gallery attendants about how to display his work. I might be able to sneak you in if you want?"

A smile spread across Dean's face. "I knew there was a reason I liked you. Lead the way."

Charlie slipped out a side door beside a painting of a very obnoxious looking old man and Dean followed, trying to avoid being seen by Jess as she'd probably complain to him later.

"It's amazing by the way, everything that Cas has done. I mean, he's always been talented, he's a scholarship student, but I've never seen him produce anything with quite so much emotion in. He really likes you."

Dean could feel himself blushing. "I really doubt it's because of me, he's probably just improvin' with practise or somethin'."

Charlie glanced back at Dean. "Seriously, dude, it's because of you. He's totally in love with you. Although I hate to pry, but did you have an argument at some point or something?"

A cold and confused feeling settling in Dean's chest, he frowned, unsure about where the question had come from and a little worried about what it could mean. "Uhh, everyone has arguments, but we're really happy at the moment as far as I know. Why? Did he not want to see me? Have I done something wrong?"

"No!" Charlie shook her head, red hair whipping around behind her. "No, it's nothing like that. He's been looking forward to seeing you all day. It's just his centrepiece... I'm wondering where he got the inspiration from. It's quite emotional. You'll understand when you see it. Now, just wait here a minute so I can check that the coast's clear."

Charlie disappeared, and Dean was left on his own in the softly lit corridor. Shrugging his shoulder s a little to try and relieve some of the tension on them, he pulled off his suit jacket and chucked it over one arm, relieved that he could finally breathe normally again. He resisted the urge to pull off his tie and undo a couple of shirt buttons, instead simply running a finger around the collar to try and ease some of the discomfort.

"Why are you hiding in a corridor?"

Dean turned round with a huge smile on his face and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, the suit jacket falling to the floor.

"Cas." He breathed, burrowing his face into Cas's neck.

Cas's arms came up slightly stiffly and wrapped around Dean.

"I missed you." Dean mumbled, his voice muffled by the way he had pressed himself into Cas.

"I missed you too." Cas replied, slowly relaxing into Dean. "But that doesn't explain why you're hiding in a random corridor."

Dean laughed. "I'm not hiding, Charlie brought me here so that I could see you."

"Charlie hasn't spoken to me." Dean could practically hear the frown in Cas's voice.

"Awww! You two are just so adorable."

The voice made Dean and Cas spring apart, and Dean narrowly avoided tripping over the abandoned jacket.

"Shut up Charlie."

"Hey, you think I'm bad, you're going to die when Becky sees you!"

Dean winced just imagining it, before realising that Cas had moved to stand protectively in front of him with a scowl on his face.

"Why is Dean going to die? Is Becky going to kill him? I will not allow Dean to come to any harm, from Becky or otherwise."

A pang of love shot through Dean at the cuteness of his boyfriend's actions. Cas's innocence and cluelessness really was amazing sometimes.

Wrapping his arms around his boyfriend from behind, he whispered into Cas's ear, "No-one's trying to kill me, Cas. But thank you."

"You two are making me feel like a third wheel. I'm going to find Gilda. Catch you later!" Charlie wandered off, leaving Dean and Cas still embracing in the corridor.

"Dean, while this is very pleasant I need to get back to the exhibition. It opens in two minutes and I need to answer questions on my work."

"Can you show it to me first?" Dean allowed some of his excitement to seep into his voice.

Cas tensed, and it was a few seconds before he answered quietly, "Of course, Dean."

Dean's eyebrows knotted. "Is that a problem? I can wait if you want, I don't have to see it now..."

"It is fine, Dean. I want you to see it." Cas paused again. "It's just..."

"It's personal?" Dean queried, stepping back.

Cas smiled at his understanding. "Yes. It is not an issue for those who do not know me, but you... you will understand. It makes me nervous, that is all."

"Well, I'd be amazed if you weren't nervous, being the star of the show." Dean joked.

"I don't remember telling you that."

Dean shrugged, thinking quickly. "Charlie let it slip. Congrats!"

Cas gave another small smile, but his eyes were fearful and Dean started to feel really worried that he'd done something badly wrong. A moment later, he felt a slightly sweaty hand work its way into his own and he relaxed, squeezing it reassuringly. It would be fine. Cas was afraid of how people would react to his work and Dean was overreacting. At least, Dean hoped he was overreacting.

Gently, Cas pulled on Dean's hand to indicate that he should follow and Dean squeezed back again, walking behind Cas and he went though yet another door that Dean hadn't even known was there, stepping into the much more brightly lit gallery. Dean's eyes widened as he took in the sets of pictures lining the walls, each dramatically different yet all showcasing the extreme talent of their artist's. On one wall, three brightly coloured pop art paintings of someone's face stood out in dramatic contrast to a double exposure photograph of a girl in a Victorian-era dress and a landscape of hills in the snow. On the other side, an abstract-type image consisting of multiple triangles was displayed, everything coming together to form what seemed to be a strange, contorted human shape. Some of the pictures were grouped together, presumably all by the same person, whereas some stood alone, perhaps art that had already been in the gallery prior to this display, or perhaps some people had only done one piece of work.

"Where's yours?" Dean asked softly, feeling the need to keep his voice down in such a place despite the fact no-one had told him to.

"The centrepiece is always in a private room." Cas was just as quiet, although that seemed to be from fear more than anything else.

Dean nodded, although Cas couldn't see him doing so, and continued to walk through the rooms, glancing at all of the different pictures. He noticed an image of someone painted in a red Star Trek uniform and grinned, realising that such a picture could only have been done by Charlie. She really was a great artist – the attention to detail was incredible – and the fact that her incessant fangirling even extended to her schoolwork amused him.

Finally, Cas lead him into a small room to one side and stopped. He was actually trembling, and Dean took a moment to run one hand over his back in a soothing motion before looking up at the work displayed on the wall.

His eyes took in the painting in the middle and his brain short-circuited.

It was the most amazing picture he had ever seen.

The main focus of the picture was himself – but not as a human. He was standing tall and upright, a storm raging around him, with eyes that just screamed majesty and power. He was shirtless (and Dean felt that Cas had rather over-exaggerated how muscular his naked chest was, but it was very flattering anyway) with some form of sigil on his chest that he would be interested to know the meaning of. But the biggest shock was the huge, incredibly detailed and complex wings unfolding from his back, every feather seeming to glisten and shine despite the fact it was only a painting. Dean had been painted as an angel, a powerful, almighty warrior of God and the very emblem of goodness. The simple fact that Cas thought of him like that made him feel a thousand things at once, and Dean felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes.

But there was something else about the painting. Emotions of anger and insignificance radiated out of it as well, with more power than Dean had ever thought was possible with just a piece of art, and as he looked he noticed the hunched figure in the corner. The figure was also shirtless, but bloody, broken down, defeated by angel Dean's mere presence. As he looked harder, Dean came to the startling realisation that the figure was Cas – the jet black, mussed up hair was unmistakeable, as was the torn trenchcoat that he only noticed when he looked really hard.

"Cas?" Dean questioned, completely bowled over by the image. "When did you..."

"After we argued." Cas's voice was quiet, resigned, and Dean hated how forlorn it sounded. "I just felt so angry and defeated... you were always too good for me..."

Dean wheeled round. "You thought I was too good for you?" There were tears in his eyes as he said it.

"You are too good for me! You are so kind and selfless, putting your brother before yourself and doing so much for him. You helped me so much when I did not want to be helped, showed me that I needed friendship and love and everything else that I had put beneath me. You reached out when no-one else would. I owe you my happiness, I owe you everything, and you should never have had to deal with me at all. I cannot even love you the way you deserve to be loved because I cannot handle intimacy or fornication after locking myself away for so long. I am just a burden to you."

Dean couldn't believe that Cas really felt that way. How on Earth could someone so amazing believe that Dean was better? Reaching out, he placed his hands on Cas's shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes.

"You." He said simply. "Are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You understand? The best thing ever. You are amazing and perfect and I'm the one who doesn't deserve to have you. I'm just a stupid trainee mechanic who couldn't even get through school, whereas you're a genius. Plus, you think you can't handle intimacy? I only ever had random sex 'cause I couldn't handle it either, and maybe I coped in a different way but it was the same situation. And now it sounds like I've been pressurin' you into it and I'm so sorry, I'm just an awful person, I can't even treat the people I love right."

"You love me?" Cas's eyes were so hopeful and round and Dean couldn't believe that he'd been so stupid.

"Of course I love you, Cas! How could I not?"

Dean barely had time to react before a pair of warm, chapped lips collided with his own and he moaned softly as Castiel pulled him in as close as possible, fisting his own hands in Castiel's hair as they engaged in a battle of passion.

Cas pulled back, looking up at Dean with shining eyes.

"I love you too."

"I know." Dean smiled down at Cas, wiping his thumb along the man's cheek.

The sound of a throat being cleared made Cas leap back and Dean glanced, eyes widening, as he took in the sight of a random man who looked like a teacher in the doorway.

"Much as I hate to break this up, the exhibition is opening and people are coming here to see the art, not a display of homosexual love." Heavy sarcasm laced every single word.

"I'm sorry, My Roche. It will not happen again." Cas seemed very apologetic as he awkwardly straightened his suit – Dean allowed his eyes to roam over as he noticed how nicely fitting and flattering Cas's suit was. Cas always looked amazing in his various suits, but this one had to take the cake.

Mr Roche just rolled his eyes before walking out and leaving Cas and Dean alone again.

"This isn't over." Dean promised.

Cas smiled at Dean, true happiness shining on his face. "No." He agreed. "It is not."


	19. Love Makes You Feel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas's POV

Castiel let out a sigh as he sagged against the wall, closing his eyes and finally allowing himself to relax. For four hours he had been answering questions and receiving compliments on his artwork, as well as running small errands for the teachers and other pupils whenever they thought he didn't look busy. Now, he was shattered. The only thing Castiel wanted at this point was to go home, collapse into bed and sleep undisturbed for a week. He knew that wasn't exactly a viable option, but he had never felt this drained at any point before in his life.

Dean had been like a godsend. He had stayed by Castiel's side all night supporting him while he talked, fetching him glasses of water and glaring at anyone who dared to criticise his work. Despite Castiel insisting several times that Dean didn't have to stay, Dean had remained there. Castiel had never felt more grateful to his boyfriend than he did now.

"Cas? Are you OK?"

Castiel opened his eyes and glanced around to see Dean walking in with two glasses of champagne and a concerned look on his face.

"I'm fine, Dean. Just a little tired."

Dean's face softened sympathetically. "Yeah, it must be tiring staying on your feet and talking to people for that length of time."

Castiel tilted his head to one side in confusion. "Dean, you were with me for almost the entire time."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, but I'm more used to it. I doubt you've ever had to stand up for twelve hours at a festival before."

Castiel frowned. "No. That doesn't sound very fun."

Dean laughed, setting the drinks down on the table next to Castiel and leaning against the wall next to him. "The atmosphere's amazing, you barely even notice how tired you are until the end. The music's normally epic as well, although there tends to be one dud mixed in who you just want to shove off the stage to leave more time for a better set."

They lapsed into silence for a moment, before Dean picked up a champagne glass and offered it to Castiel.

"I figured we should celebrate your success tonight."

Castiel smiled gratefully, accepting the glass. He didn't normally drink champagne, but this seemed to be an occasion where he could make an exception.

"To Cas – the best artist the world has ever seen." Dean grinned and held out his own glass.

"I don't think I'm the best – "

"Just accept the toast, Cas."

Eyes crinkling at the corners in happiness, Castiel gently tapped his glass against Dean's (a totally bizarre custom, in his point of view, but Dean seemed to expect it) before taking a sip. The liquid was much nicer than he remembered and he found himself actually enjoying the fizzy concoction.

"What time can we head out then?" Dean asked, slipping an arm around Castiel.

Castiel sighed, draining his glass of champagne then leaning his head against Dean's shoulder. "Now that most of the guests have left, I should be able to leave in half an hour or so. But I have to speak to Miss Moore – I mean Jess – about how it went and help her to tidy up."

"Can you not just skip out?" Dean seemed impatient for something, although what, Castiel wasn't sure.

"I do not think Jess would like it if I simply left having previously volunteered to help. I need to discuss the future with her as well and this is an opportune time to do it."

Dean sighed, removing his arm from Castiel's waist. Slightly surprised, Castiel lifted his head up and allowed Dean to step away.

"Alright." Dean drained his own champagne flute and set it down next to Castiel's. "Shall we go and find her then?"

"Dean, if you wish to leave now then you are perfectly welcome to." Castiel could sense that Dean was tired and a little fed up of being in the gallery, and he didn't really understand why he had stayed this long.

"No no, it's fine, I'll stay. Besides, you don't have a car, how are you planning to get home safe?"

Castiel frowned, starting to walk towards the reception area. "I expected to walk, that is my usual mode of transport."

"At this time of night? Not a chance, it's not safe. I'm driving you home." Dean's tone of voice left no room for argument.

Castiel felt a slight flicker of annoyance at how Dean seemed to think he was unable of defending himself, but at the same time he felt himself smile because of how much his boyfriend cared.

"Castiel! There you are, I've been looking for you – congratulations! The response to your work has been fantastic." Jess appeared round the corner and may her way over to Castiel and Dean with an enormous smile on her face.

"Thank-you. It has indeed been most pleasing how the public has reacted."

"Not just the public – the art critics as well. Did you speak to Ezekiel Penikett?" Jess seemed very excited.

Castiel's eyes widened. "The Ezekiel Penikett?"

Dean was clearly confused. "Who's Ezekiel Penikett?"

Jess turned to Dean. "Ezekiel Penikett, or as he's more often called, Zeke, is one of the greatest traditional artists of this age. His work is displayed in just about every gallery in the UK, as well as a few galleries around the world – France, the US, China. He uses his fame to discover bright young artists who he believes could reach the top and help them get started, displaying their work alongside his own exhibitions so that they start to get recognised. If Castiel has managed to impress him, he could be started on the road to being a professional artist."

"That's awesome!" A massive grin has spread onto Dean's face.

Castiel frowned. "If he didn't speak to me, he probably has very little interest in my work. He may have been here to look at somebody else's."

Jess shook her head. "On the contrary, I invited him here specifically to look at your work, and he spoke to me saying that he was very impressed. I wouldn't be surprised if he got in touch with the Academy in a few days to get your details."

Castiel was shocked. He couldn't believe that someone as great as Ezekiel Penikett could possibly be interested in his work. He didn't even follow a particular pattern or style – Ezekiel was famed for always using traditional methods and sticking to certain styles, but warping them to suit his own needs. Castiel was very different to the sort of artist he would usually support, especially as Castiel was already getting specialist help as he attended an Art Academy. Ezekiel would normally go for someone with a similar style to his own who was much more of an underdog.

"Well, I think this is another cause for celebration, eh Cas? What do you say we take off home and grab a couple of beers and relax? You deserve a chance to relax after all the hard work you put in for this." Dean was clearly still trying to persuade Castiel to leave.

Castiel was about to point out again that he needed to help Jess, when she spoke up,

"He's right – you deserve to relax for a while after this. You go on home, I'll drop you an email if I hear anything."

Surprised, Castiel nodded before turning to Dean.

"Great!" Dean seemed exceptionally pleased. "The car's out front, did you bring any stuff with you?"

"Just my coat. It is in the cloakroom, I will go and fetch it."

Castiel walked quickly to the cloakroom, nodding at Miss Talbot when he walked past her scribbling some notes on the event down on a clipboard. He vaguely registered that Dean was trailing behind him but he didn't pay much attention to that fact until he entered the cloakroom and found himself spun round against the wall.

For a second, Castiel panicked, then he realised it was Dean and let out a breath, staring into Dean's eyes.

"Dean, why are you pinning me against a wall? I need to get my coat."

Dean didn't reply, instead just staring into Castiel's eyes before leaning in to capture his lips.

Castiel relaxed into Dean, kissing back languidly and moving his hands up Dean's back, feeling the ridges of muscle through the thin shirt. He was a little confused as to why Dean was kissing him now, instead of waiting ten minutes when they would be at Castiel's and there was less of a chance of them being disturbed, but this was nice, so it wasn't like he was going to complain.

Dean was starting to apply more force to the kiss, pressing Cas between his body and the wall, but Castiel moved his head to one side so Dean was kissing his nick instead.

"Dean." Castiel's voice came out much deeper and gruffer than normal. "I think this would be more appropriate at my flat."

Dean pulled away, stepping back and wiping his mouth with one hand.

"Sorry. You just look really hot in that suit. Plus, I said this wasn't over earlier, so I had to pick up where we left off."

Castiel got the impression that Dean wasn't sorry at all – but he didn't mind. Instead, he just smiled lovingly at Dean, pulling his trenchcoat off the hook it was hanging on before standing at the door.

"Your place, yeah?" Dean asked, slipping his arm around Castiel's waist.

Castiel moved his own arm around Dean before gently leaning into him. "Yes."

Together, the pair walked out to the car, barely paying attention to anything going on around them.

Once they were sat in the Impala, the trenchcoat discarded on the back seat, Dean couldn't resist leaning over and quickly kissing Castiel again.

"You're insatiable." Castiel commented.

Dean shrugged easily, reversing the Impala out of the parking space. "Guilty."

It didn't take long to get to Castiel's apartment, and the journey passed mostly in comfortable silence.

"Hey, where's the annoying snobby lady?" Dean asked, glancing through the glass doors to the empty reception desk.

"Dean!" Castiel admonished.

"Sorry, sorry... but in all seriousness, how come no-one's there?"

"They probably needed to urinate. It is not of import."

Dean glanced at Castiel as he got out of the Impala.

"You have such a strange way of phrasing things sometimes."

Castiel frowned. "Am I strange?"

Dean laughed, putting his arm around Castiel again as he locked the Impala. "Yes, Cas, you're very strange. But that's why I love you."

Castiel smiled, before quietly leading Dean into the building and up the stairs to his apartment. It was only when he got to the top that he realised he had left his trenchcoat in the car – and that his coat had his keys in.

"Dean, I left my keys in the car."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Cas? Ok, just wait here a moment, I'll go and get them."

Dean was walking back to the car before Castiel had a chance to reply. Leaning against the door, Castiel thought back over the events of the night. It had been amazing. Sure, it had been tiring and at times the questions had been so repetitive that he wished he'd thought to print off an FAQ sheet beforehand, but the positive responses had been overwhelmingly flattering. He was extremely pleased at the thought that someone like Ezekiel Penikett had seen and liked his work, even if he never heard from him personally. Really, Castiel thought, it might be better if Ezekiel didn't get in contact. Then he could reserve his support for someone who needed it more – Castiel had contacts who he had met through the Academy which he could use if he decided to pursue professional art, and there were others who didn't even have that.

"Alright, sleepyhead, I've got the keys."

Dean's voice pulled Castiel back into reality and he smiled down at Dean, taking the keys off him and moving so that he could open the door.

"Did you want a drink?" Castiel asked as he walked in, knowing that Dean would be right behind him.

Sure enough, a pair of arms gently encircled his waist from behind.

"As lovely as that sounds, Cas, I know something that I want more."

Castiel stopped, trying to turn around so that he could see Dean's face.

"What do you want, Dean?" He questioned.

"You."


	20. Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! There may be a smutty sequel in the pipeline, but I just started a different multichapter story so I don't know when it'll be written. Watch this space!
> 
> Dean's POV

A few months ago, Dean would never have imagined that he would end up here.

Here meaning that Dean was sat in his ripped, slightly mucky jeans and sweaty t-shirt, straight from working at the garage at college, waiting outside a posh-looking art gallery for his boyfriend. His amazing, talented, sexy boyfriend who was being interviewed by one of the top artists in the world for a collaborative project. When Castiel had told Dean that Ezekiel Penikett had emailed Jess asking for his contact details, he had been absolutely ecstatic, and Dean didn't think he'd felt that proud since Sammy won his scholarship. Then, when Cas had received an email from 'Zeke' (as Ezekiel insisted Cas call him) requesting that they meet up to discuss a potential collaboration on a project for a new exhibition opening in a gallery in France next year, Cas had fallen out of his chair and Dean had thought that he was going to have to call an ambulance for both of them – Cas to treat his shock, and Dean because he felt like he'd torn a muscle in his cheek smiling so widely.

Dean had been almost as nervous as Cas in the run up to the interview, causing Cas to actually ban Dean from his apartment because Dean was acting so jumpy. Fortunately, Cas had withdrawn the ban two days later when Dean had turned up with pie and burgers and practically grovelled at the door for half an hour. Before, Dean would never have even considered doing such a thing for anyone else – Winchesters did not grovel – but Cas had changed everything in Dean's life.

At that moment, the door at the side of the gallery swung open and Cas stepped out, a smile on his face. Dean couldn't help the grin that spread across his own face in response, and he leant out the open window of his car and waved at Cas, ignoring the drizzle that was now falling on his bare arms and making him shiver.

"Cas!" He called.

Cas looked around for a moment then seemed to notice Dean, waving back before turning to an unseen figure in the doorway. He stood there for a few seconds with his head tilted in that adorable way of his, before shaking the figure's hand and wandering over to where Dean was sat in the Impala.

"So, how did it go?"

Cas hadn't even sat down properly before Dean was eagerly asking him questions.

"It went well. Very well. I am very happy." Cas's voice contained much more emotion than it normally did.

Grinning, Dean leant across to give Cas a quick kiss on the lips.

"Awesome! So you're doin' a collaboration then?"

Cas smiled, leaning back in his seat and looking at Dean.

"Provided that I can take the time away from the Academy, I will be spending two days a week with Zeke to assist him in his project. I imagine I will play a helper role rather than it being a full collaboration, but it's still the chance I need to break into the world of professional art." Cas sounded very proud.

"There's no way that the Academy would say no to you acceptin' that offer."

"No, I doubt they would."

His smile not leaving his face, Dean slung an arm over Cas's shoulders and started to drive away from the gallery. "Well, I don't know about you but I'm starvin'. Celebratory dinner at the Roadhouse?"

"That sounds excellent." Cas leant into Dean's arm and continued to stare unashamedly at Dean's face.

Turning briefly to face his boyfriend, Dean decided to ask the question that had been bugging him since he had first heard about the interview.

"So, does all this mean that we won't see each other as often?"

Cas's eyes widened. "Why, do you not want to see me anymore?"

Dean shook his head vehemently. "No, no, of course I want to see you! Just, if you're comin' up to work with Zeke all the time that cuts down the time we can be together, and I've got a bucketload of coursework coming up so I can get my distinctions from college. Plus, soon enough you'll be graduating the Academy and going off to be an artist, and I'll be getting a job as a mechanic or something, and you'll have to travel and I'll have to stay in one place – "

Dean was cut off by Cas's hand over his mouth, and only narrowly avoided swerving off the road.

"Dean." Cas admonished. "Stop worrying. I love you. I will only be spending two days a week with Zeke, the rest of the time that I am not at school I can spend with you. As for the future, I am not planning on letting you go, so I will find a way to be with you."

"I don't deserve you." This was why Dean tried to avoid chick-flick moments – he felt like he was about to cry in happiness.

"No, Dean. It is I who does not deserve you."

/ / / / / / / /

The arrival of the school and college holidays was like a godsend to Dean. He felt like he hadn't stopped working for weeks, and while he had spent plenty of time with Cas, most of that time had simply been them sitting in silence working. This was the first evening where neither of them had anything else to do for about a month, and Dean was extremely excited about it. Not because they had planned to do anything – in fact, Cas had specifically stated that he wanted to do nothing – but just because they could enjoy each other's company without work getting in the way.

A knock sounded on Dean's door, and he barely prevented himself from running over to it in his happiness.

"Cas!" He exclaimed, just before a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist and Dean found his surprisingly strong boyfriend pushing him back into his apartment and pressing his lips to Deans.

"I missed you." Cas grunted in between kisses, his voice deeper and gruffer than normal.

"Ditto." Dean replied, moaning slightly as Cas pushed him against the wall.

Cas pulled back slightly with a frown on his face.

"Ditto? I don't understand that expression."

Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes. After all this time, his boyfriend could still be an adorable and oblivious idiot.

"Don't worry about it, Cas." Dean tried to move in for another kiss but Cas was having none of it.

"Dean, I want to know the meaning of this 'ditto'. Is it a compliment?"

"Umm... yeah. That's it. It's a compliment." Dean really couldn't be bothered to explain anything to Cas properly right now.

"Ahh. I shall have to use that word more. It is a nice word. 'Ditto'."

Dean sighed. This was going to come back to bite him later, he was sure of it. But for now, he pushed all thoughts of it out of his mind as Cas finally leant in to kiss him again.

/ / / / / / / / /

When Cas graduated from the Academy, Dean was one of the only people who came along to offer support.

Most of the graduates there were surrounded by proud close and extended family, as well as an alarming number of old friends and their relatives, filling the whole area around the prestigious place with noise and happiness. Cas had looked quite lost in the middle of it until Dean had arrived, dragging Sam and Cas's brother Gabriel (who had become quite a good friend of Sam's) with him.

"Congratulations!" Dean grinned, giving Cas a hug.

Cas didn't seem as happy as Dean would have liked, but he still managed to smile weakly back.

"Thank-you, Dean."

"Yes, congratulations! Jess tells me you've done really well. Top of the class, with your references from Zeke!" Sam seemed just as proud of Cas as his brother was, but then he was probably just happy because Cas made Dean happy.

"Thank-you, Sam. I believe that Jess has overestimated my capabilities with naming me top of the class, but it was a nice compliment."

"Trust me, Jess can be pretty critical when she wants to. You can believe her when she says you're the best."

"Oi!" Jess interrupted Sam but poking him hard in the ribs. "What was that about me being critical?"

"It was a compliment, Jess." Sam leant in to kiss his girlfriend, causing Dean to turn away and pretend to gag.

"Dean? Are you not feeling well?" Cas's concern was so sincere it almost made Dean laugh.

"Don't worry, bro, he's messing around. And yeah, congrats and all that!" Gabriel seemed determined to join in the conversation.

"Thank-you, Gabriel. Your support means a lot to me."

Dean knew that he was talking about how the rest of his family wasn't here.

"Ahh, forget about all those douchebags. They're just jealous 'cause we're clearly the most talented of the bunch."

Cas smiled a little more, and Dean jumped in.

"Cas, really, don't worry about it. Family isn't about blood, it's about friendship, and love. Sam and I are your family now."

Dean smiled as Cas gazed up at him like he held the answer to all the questions in the universe, almost subconsciously stepping closer so they could stare into each other's eyes.

Gabriel stood awkwardly between the two embracing couples, his eyes flicking between them.

"Damnit. How did I manage to end up as the fifth wheel?"

"How, indeed? I cannot believe that a man as nice-looking as you could find himself without a date." A smooth voice sounded from behind Gabriel.

Gabriel turned around to see a taller (although that wasn't hard), blond, well dressed man standing with his hands in the pockets of his tailored suit.

"Possibly because every person on this planet only seems to want to date me based on looks, and then I chase them away because I can't stop talking and they want some kind of ornament that can keep quiet." Gabriel vented. "Sorry. That wasn't directed at you. I just generally have issues with relationships."

The man raised an eyebrow. "That seems to be a problem more often associated with women than men."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Oh, probably, but objectification can go both ways. Forget about it. I'm rambling."

"On the contrary, I find listening to you fascinating." The man held out a hand. "Balthazar Roche. One of the teachers here."

Gabriel cocked his head to one side. "Balthazar Roche? I'm Gabriel Novak, Cas's older brother. I think I've heard him talking about you before."

"Only good things, I hope."

Gabriel laughed. "You're joking, right? This is Cas. He manages to find flaws in everybody. Except Dean, of course, but then he thinks the sun shines out of that guy's ass."

"Well, Cas has always been a bit of an oddball, if you don't mind me saying."

Gabriel shrugged. "Nahh, I don't mind. I know he's weird. I think he was abducted and replaced with some kind of socially inept robot at birth. But he's my brother, so I do love him."

"That's understandable." Balthazar glanced at an expensive looking watch on his wrist. "I need to go and talk to some parents. But I have very much enjoyed this conversation. I don't suppose you would like to meet up again at some point in the future?"

Gabriel's eyes widened. "Are you asking me on a date?"

"No, I'm asking you to join me in taking over the planet." Balthazar's voice filled with sudden sarcasm.

Gabriel grinned. "Well, I'm always up for ruling the world! I'm only down here for a few days to see Cas, but if you'd like to come to my hotel tomorrow we could... discuss this further."

"Excellent." Balthazar pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Gabriel. "Here's my number. Call me with the details."

Balthazar walked away, leaving Gabriel standing there with a grin on his face.

"What was that about?" Dean suddenly appeared next to Gabriel, holding Cas's hand. "Why were you talking to the obnoxious teacher dude?"

Gabriel's grin widened with the realisation that Dean didn't seem to like Balthazar very much. This was an opportunity.

"Well, Dean-o, I have just got myself a date. I believe that you are going to be seeing a lot more of myself and, ahem, the 'obnoxious teacher dude' in the near future."

Dean groaned, burying his face into Cas's neck.

"Seriously? What is it with people I know and dating teachers?"

Gabriel just cackled evilly. This could be fun.

/ / / / / / / / /

Years later, Dean found himself looking back on that time with a fondness he would deny until his dying day. (He still didn't do chick-flick moments).

After finishing college, Dean had picked up a job as an apprentice at Singer's Auto Salvage and stayed there. Some people might find it strange that he had never even tried to get promoted, but Dean loved his job and, being married to the famous artist Castiel Novak, it wasn't like money was an issue.

Yes, Dean and Cas had married, gay marriage being finally legalised in England. It had been a small, intimate ceremony, with barely any people there, but they hadn't cared. In fact, it had almost been better that only the people they really cared about had been in attendance.

Cas had finished his collaboration with Zeke Penikett, an exhibition simply entitled 'Angels', and risen to almost overnight fame for his incredible images. After that, it had almost been laughably easy for Cas to get commissions for various art galleries and even private buyers, to the extent that Cas was able to pick and choose his favourites in a way that never happened for young, new artists. True, his fame dwindled a little over time, but he was still very much in demand in the art world and both him and Dean were thrilled about that.

Sam and Jess had got engaged shortly after Sam turned eighteen, to no-one's surprise – although Dean had insisted that they wait until Sam graduated university to get married. Sam had then proceeded to graduate from his first degree (in Law, the brainy kid) and return to do a Masters, meaning that him and Jess still weren't married despite having intended to do it ages ago. Dean didn't doubt that the two would be together forever though, especially as Jess had just revealed that she was pregnant with their first child.

Jess was still working at the Academy, as was Balthazar – who, to Dean's eternal annoyance, had started dating Gabriel seriously after Cas graduated. The two had broken up after two years together, but it had been an amicable breakup and Balthazar was still a very close friend of Jess and Cas, so was always there at family events. Balthazar was now dating a woman named Hester who he had met on holiday, although Dean hadn't actually met her yet.

Gabriel had moved to be closer to everyone when he started dating Balthazar, opening a new sweetshop in town that proved to be a moderate success. Following the breakup, he had returned to his previous ways of sleeping around and having short, fairly meaningless relationships with random men and women. Dean would feel sorry for him, except Gabriel annoyed him too much.

All in all, everything had turned out pretty well, and personally, Dean couldn't be happier.

Well, couldn't be happier unless Cas came home with pie.


End file.
